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GIVEN  BY 


(Ella  Wtth  library 
JSarnarb  College 


LETTERS 


FE01I 


WALDEGRAYE    COTTAGE. 

Barnard  College 

BY 

REV.  GEORGE  W.  NICHOLS,  A.  M., 

AUTHOE    OF     "  CHILDHOOD'S    MEMOEIES "     AND     "A    PASTOB's    WBEA.TH." 


(Eolnmhm  Infogrgftw 

8ar«ari>   ©allege 
3Thi>  Elig  Wnb  ffiibran? 

NEW    YORK : 

JAMES   POTT  AND    COMPANY, 

14  and  16  A8tob  Place. 
1856. 


IB' to  Act 

SOROp  WARNER   NICHOLS, 


Entefcea  accordiflO^to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S86,  by 


ite^ea  accordiW^ 


In  the  Offic^f/thV  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


From  Press  of 

The  Standard  Printing  and  Publishing  Co., 

161-165  Franklin  Street, 

New  York. 


Given  by 

Ella  Weed  Library 

Barnard  College 


TO 


?     <8    SUSAN    WARNER    NICHOLS, 


OF 


i~z  Greenfield  Hill,   Conn. 

o 

My  Dear  Sister: 

I  dedicate  to  you  the  following  Letters. 

With  many  of  the  scenes,  sketches  and  characters 
therein  portrayed  you  are  more  or  less  familiar.  I 
know  you  will  appreciate  them.  I  need  not  say  that 
it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  dedicate  them  to  one 
whose  sisterly  affection  and  kind  sympathy,  and 
whose  intellectual  gifts  and  graces  constitute  a  rich 
source  of  enjoyment  to  the  writer.  Let  me  conclude 
with  the  most  sincere  and  ardent  wish  that  you  may 
pass  many  years  of  serene  and  quiet  enjoyment  in 
our  old  family  home  at  Greenfield,  and  may  life's 
last  evening  be  crowned  with  that  golden  sun-setting 
which  betokens  the  brilliance  of  an  unending  day. 

Yours, 

* 

In  grateful  love  and  affection, 

GEORGE  W.  NICHOLS. 

Jan't,  1886. 


PREFACE. 


Most  of  the  following  letters  have  already 
appeared  in  print,  and  are  republished  in  deference 
to  the  wishes  of  many  who  have  read  them.  A  few 
others  are  printed  now  for  the  first  time.  The  book 
is  sent  forth  with  the  hope  that  it  may  not  only  give 
interest  to  some  leisure  hour,  but  may  also  be  a 
means  of  usefulness  in  the  hand  of  that  Divine  and 
Gracious  Being  from  Whom  all  good  gifts  come  and 
to  Whom  are  due  all  our  labor  and  all  our  love. 

G.  W.  N. 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER  No.  I. 

Origin  of  the  Title  of  this  Book,  or  why  these  Letters  are  called 
"Letters  from  Waldegrave  Cottage  "—Some  Description  of 
"Waldegrave  Cottage — Its  Associations  and  Attractive  Sur- 
roundings      11 

LETTER  No.  II. 

The  Old  Homestead  of  my  Grandfather— Interesting  Historical 
Incidents  connected  with  it— A  Description  of  the  Home  of 
my  Father  at  Greenfield— Some  Account  of  his  Life 16 

LETTER  No.  IIL 

Pleasant  Recollections  of  my  Father's  Parsonage  at  Bedford, 
N.  Y. — Description  of  Scenes  and  Events,  connected  with 
the  Author's  Ministry  in  the  Parish  of  St.  Stephen's,  East 
Haddam,  Conn 23 

LETTER  No.  IV. 

Sketches  of  Scenes  and  Incidents,  connected  with  Ministerial 
and  Parish  Life  during  Four  Years'  Residence  of  the  Author 
in  three  Parishes  of  Litchfield  County,  Conn 32 


•j 


8  Contents. 

LETTER  No.  V. 

The  Attractions  and  Beauties  of  New  Haven— College  Life- 
Some  Notices  of  the  Eminent  Professors  of  Yale  ;  also  some 
Account  of  the  Life  and  Labors  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Croswell, 
Rector  of  Trinity  Church — How  he  Assisted  the  Writer  in 
Rebuilding  a  Handsome  Rural  Church,  in  the  Vicinity — The 
Pleasures  of  a  Brooklyn  Residence 39 

LETTER  No.  VI. 

Life's  Retrospect — The  Great  Advance  in  Art  and  Science  during 
the  Author's  Lifetime ;  also,  the  "Wonderful  Changes  in  the 
Religious  World  during  the  same  Period— Importance  of 
the  Bible 47 

LETTER  No.  VII. 

Sketches  of  the  Life  and  Character  of  Chief-Justice  John  Jay,  of 
Bishop  T.  C.  Brownell,  D.D.,  L.L.D.,  of  Conn.,  of  the  Hon. 
John  A.  Lott,  one  of  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme  Court,  and 
of  the  Court  of  Appeals,  N.  Y.  State 55 

LETTER  No.  VIII. 

The  Powerful  Influence  of    a   Christian   Mother — Biographical 

Sketch  of  the  Author's  Mother 63 

LETTER  No.  IX. 
The  Bible— Its  Evidences,  its  Inspiration,  its  Infallibility 73 

LETTER  No.  X. 

A  Summer  Vacation  in  July,  1874,  at  Montpelier,  Vt.— Scenery, 
Characters  and  Incidents, — A  Summer  Vacation  in  July  and 
August,  1676,  in  Great  Barrington,  among  the  Hills  of  Berk- 
shire, Mass 80 


Contents,  9 

LETTER  No.  XI. 

Some  farther  Observations  on  the  Bible — The  Church:  its  Broad 
and  Catholic  Nature — Some  Reasons  in  Favor  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church 88 

LETTER  No.  XII. 

Visit    to    New   York — Remarkable    Changes — Some   interesting 

Reminiscences  of  the  Churches,  etc 95 

LETTER  No.  XIIL 

Home  and  Family — A  Divine  Institution,  framed  in  Eden — The 
Characteristics  of  a  True  Home:  1st,  Christian;  2d,  Cheerful; 
3d,  Healthy 104 

LETTER  No.  XIV. 

Recollections  of  Two  Distinguished  Clergymen — Dr.  Francis  L. 
Hawks:  a  Brief  Sketch  of  his  Life  and  Labors — Bishop  John 
Henry  Hobart:  his  Birth  and  Early  History;  his  Extraordi- 
nary Career  of  Usefulness  ;  his  Sudden  and  Lamented 
Death 112 

LETTER  No.  XV. 

Summer  Life  at  "Waldegrave  Cottage — Class  Meeting  at  Yale 117 

LETTER  No.  XVI. 

"In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread."  "Man  shall 
not  live  by  bread  only,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth 
out  of  the  mouth  of  God."  "  To  do  good  and  to  distribute, 
forget  not."    The  Great  Object  of  Life 123 


10  Contents. 

LETTER  No.  XVII, 

The  Vital  Question,  "  What  think  ye  of  Christ."  What  think  ye 
of  Him  as  Saviour  ?  The  Question  a  practical  and  personal 
one 130 

LETTEK  No.  XVIII. 

The  Future  hidden.     "  It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be/' 

This  provision  necessary,  wise,  and  beneficent 137 

LETTER  No.  XDL 
Hope.     Earthly  and  Christian  hope  contrasted 143 

LETTER  No.  XX. 

Belshazzar's  Feast — A  Warning  to  every  Nation  against  Irreligion 
aud  Infidelity — An  Exhortation  to  God's  Ministers  tbat  they 
faithfully  discharge  the  Duties  of  their  high  Office 151 

LETTER  No.  XXI. 

The  Divine  hedges:  1st,  Conscience ;  2d,  Pleasure  in  Doing 
Good ;  3d,  The  Restraints  and  Privileges  of  Religion  ;  4th, 
The  Discipline  of  Adversities;  5th,  The  Influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit 157 

LETTER  No.  XXII. 

The  Transfiguration.  The  Pre-eminence  of  the  God-man,  Jesus 
of  Nazareth 165 

LETTER  No.  XXIII. 

Easter.  The  Sacred  and  Historical  Associations  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre.  As  in  Adam  all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be 
made  alive 172 


r?K 


■■■■■■::   \    •i3PiW>ss 


MAGDALEN   WALDEGKAVE. 


L 


Let    me  explain  at    the  outset    my  reasons  for 
naming  the  spot    from  which  I  am  now  writing, 
"Waldegrave  Cottage."    It  is  said,  and  with  con- 
siderable show  of  truth,  that  the  writer  is  a  descend- 
ant of  the  Earl  of  Waldegrave,  who  died  in  England 
many  years  since,  leaving  large  possessions.     That 
some  of  his  descendants  came  to  this  country,  and 
lived  and  died  here  is  well  known.     At  least,  three 
of  their  tomb-stones  may  still  be  seen  in  Trinity 
Church-yard,  in  the  City  of  New  York.     They  stand 
to  the  north  of  the  Church,  about  fifty  feet  west  of 
the  iron  railing  on  Broadway.     One  of  them  is  quite 
modern  and  in  a  good  state  of  preservation.     It  is  to 
the  memory  of  George  Walgrave  who  died  in  1785, 
and  his  wife,  Magdalen,  who  died  in  1821— the  for- 
mer, aged  sixty-two  years,  and  the  latter,  ninety- 
nine  years.    Their  daughter,  Magdalen,  was  married 
to    my    great-grandfather,     George     "Warner,     on 
the  second  day  of  February,  1771.     She  died  Janu- 
ary  2d,  1814,  and  her  remains,  with  those  of  her 

husband  and  some  of  their  descendants,  are  interred 
11 


12  Waldegrave  Cottage. 

in  the  family  vault  immediately  in  front  of  the 
Emmet  Monument,  in  St.  Paul's  Church-yard.  Over 
this  vault  stands  a  chaste  granite  monument  to  the 
memory  of  his  daughter,  Sarah  Firman  Williams, 
and  in  the  interior  of  the  Church,  near  the  west 
entrance,  may  be  seen  marble  tablets  to  the  memory 
of  her  husband,  who  died  in  1825,  and  her  son, 
Effingham  Warner,  who  died  in  1796.  My  great- 
grandmother  was  always  spoken  of  as  a  beautiful 
woman  and  as  possessing  graces  and  accomplish- 
ments of  a  rare  and  high  order — and  this  is  my  rea- 
son for  calling  this  place  "Waldegrave  Cottage." 

I  came  here  about  one  year  since,  having  pre- 
viously resided  for  some  twelve  years  or  more  in 
the  far-famed  City  of  Brooklyn ;  not  that  I  was 
dissatisfied  with  it,  for  Brooklyn  is  a  most 
charming  and  attractive  city,  with  all  its  noble 
churches,  distinguished  preachers  and  hospitable 
homes,  and  pleasant  friends.  But  I  felt  that  a 
change  from  city  to  country  would  prove  beneficial 
to  our  health;  nor  have  we  been  disappointed.  ISTor- 
walk,  which  is  now  a  city  of  considerable  size, 
having  fourteen  thousand  inhabitants,  is  pleasantly 
located  near  Long  Island  Sound,  and  lies  amid 
valleys  and  sloping  hills,  from  which  many  elegant 
residences  overlook  the  waters  of  the  Sound.     Our 


Waldegrave   Cottage.  13 

home,  which  is  a  beautiful  and  tasteful  structure, 
lies  on  one  of  the  principal  avenues  of  the  town. 
We  have  many  of  the  comforts  to  be  found  in  a  city 
— gas  of  superior  quality,  pure  soft  water  from  the 
lakes  near  New  Canaan;  besides,  a  fine  lawn  is  in 
front  of  the  house,  and  a  garden  in  the  rear.  A 
favorite  horse  takes  us  to  ride  every  day.  Indeed, 
the  drives  in  this  country  are  charming — some  of 
them  leading  through  the  back  country  to  Stamford, 
with  its  fine  residences,  New  Canaan,  with  its  little 
Gothic  towers  rising  so  gracefully  among  the  trees; 
and  some  leading  toward  the  water.  At  times  we 
drive  near  the  pleasant  Summer  home  of  Dr.  Alonzo 
Clark,  or  the  palatial  residences  of  the  Hoyts,  with 
their  fine  grounds,  near  Stamford.  At  other  times 
we  drive  through  Westport,  a  pleasant  village,  and 
pass  the  beautiful  and  perfect  little  gem  of  a  church 
built  by  Winslow,  the  New  York  banker;  or  drive  a 
little  further  on,  to  the  splendid  seat  and  grounds  of 
Morris  Ketchum;  or  extend  the  ride  still  further  to 
Greenfield  Hill,  formerly  the  residence  of  Dwight, 
the  eminent  scholar  and  divine,  who  was  once  Presi- 
dent of  Yale  College.  By  following  on  the  road  still 
further  which  leads  to  New  Canaan,  we  come  to  the 
quiet  inland  village  of  Bedford,  in  the  State  of  New 
York.     In  this  town  the  writer  spent  the  days  of  his 


14  Bedford,  New   York, 

childhood.  Oh,  how  many  delightful  associations  and 
pleasant  memories  cluster  around  that  quiet  parson- 
age and  little  quaint  Episcopal  Church,  which  stands 
about  one  mile  north  of  the  village,  where  my  boy- 
hood was  spent  and  where  my  father  preached  for 
twenty-two  years  !  How  well  do  I  remember  that 
old  parsonage,  with  its  green  lawn  in  front,  over- 
shadowed by  the  trees  planted  there  by  the  hand  of 
the  rector,  and  the  venerable  church,  too,  which 
stood  beside  it,  and  the  many  marble  tablets  which 
lay  around  it !  Time,  though  it  seems  to  obliterate 
often  the  scenes  and  events  of  later  years,  yet  seldom 
can  efface  from  our  remembrance  the  early  impres- 
sions of  our  childhood  or  the  tender  associations  of 
home.  In  that  church  of  sweet  memories,  I  may 
here  mention,  worshiped  the  various  members  of 
the  family  of  that  distinguished  and  honored 
patriot,  John  Jay.  I  remember  him  well,  and 
recollect  perfectly  his  venerable,  mild  and  placid 
face  as  he  sat  at  his  own  fireside,  or  in  his  pew  on 
Sunday  in  the  parish  church,  joining  with  devout 
sincerity  in  the  prayers  and  hymns  or  listening  to 
the  sermon.  There  sat  also  his  daughters,  Miss  Ann 
Jay  and  Mrs.  Banyer,  and  Judge  William  Jay  and 
John  Jay,  his  son  now  living,  late  minister  from  this 
country  to  the  Court  of  Austria.     The  Jay  mansion 


Bedford,   New   York.  15 

stood  about  two  miles  north  of  the  church,  beautifully 
located  upon  an  elevated  slope  of  ground,  from 
which  the  eye  rested  upon  a  broad  landscape  of 
diversified  scenery.  This  distinguished  and  honored 
statesman,  after  having  spent  the  best  part  of  his 
life  in  labors  for  the  good  of  his  beloved  country, 
sought  this  quiet  and  peaceful  retreat,  far  removed 
from  all  the  turmoil  and  business  of  life,  and  there 
he  spent  a  serene  and  happy  old  age  in  the  bosom  of 
his  family.  I  have  thus  thrown  together  a  few 
thoughts  from  this,  my  new  home,  chosen  after 
having  spent  the  greater  part  of  life,  while  health 
and  strength  permitted,  in  the  duties  of  the  sacred 
ministry,  and  where  I  may  perhaps  pass  what  of 
earthly  life  yet  remains  to  me;  and  should  this  brief 
letter  be  deemed  of  sufficient  interest  to  occupy  a 
place  in  that  valuable  journal,  the  Sunday  Maga- 
zine, it  is  at  your  service. 

Waldegrave  Cottage, 

Norwalk,  Conn. 


n. 


Since  I  last  wrote  you  from  this  place,  the 
autumnal  season  has  commenced.  The  vegetation, 
which  had  begun  to  droop  and  wither,  by  the  con- 
tinued drouth,  has  been  revived,  and  all  nature  is 
clothed  with  its  fresh  robe  of  green.  The  country 
was  never  more  attractive  for  rides  and  rambles 
than  now.  As  you  ascend  the  hill-tops,  behind  the 
cottage,  and  then  look  down  on  the  valley  below, 
the  scene  is  a  beautiful  one.  Everywhere,  amid 
picturesque  forests  and  dales,  you  see  the  residences 
of  the  inhabitants,  and  the  tall  church-spires  point- 
ing heavenward,  and  one  striking  residence,  erected 
by  the  late  Le-Grand  Lock  wood,  at  a  cost  of  $700,000, 
resembling,  with  its  spacious  grounds  covered  with 
trees  and  verdant  shrubs,  an  English  palace.  Yes- 
terday we  drove  away  toward  the  water,  amid  soft 
autumnal  breezes,  and  in  view  of  the  waters,  blue 
and  sparkling,  of  Long  Island  Sound,  to  a  charming 
residence  now  in  possession  of  a  New  York  family. 
The  smooth,  white  pebbly  roads,  the  grand  old  forest- 
trees,  and  the  lakes  which  now  and  then  rose  to  view 
16 


Family  Reminiscences.  17 

— the  mansion,  standing  in  leafy  solitudes  and  creep- 
ing ivies,  all  served  to  enhance  the  beauty  and  var- 
iety of  the  scenery ;  and  we  returned  home  just  as 
the  sun  was  setting  behind  the  hills,  and  pouring  its 
brilliance,  amid  golden  and  amber  clouds,  over  the 
whole  landscape.  I  have  already  spoken  of  some 
places  and  scenes  of  interest  about  here ;  but  of 
them  all,  I  know  of  none  invested  with  a  deeper 
interest  or  charm  to  the  writer  than  the  two  follow- 
ing, viz.:  one,  the  "old  homestead  of  my  grand- 
father" ;  the  other,  "the  home  of  my  father"  ;  and 
with  your  permission,  I  will  proceed  to  speak  of 
these  places  and  some  historical  incidents  connected 
therewith.  Both  of  them  lie  at  a  distance  of  about 
eight  miles  from  Waldegrave  Cottage,  and  make  a 
very  pleasant  drive.  The  former,  which  was  burned 
accidentally  not  long  since,  was  an  old  and  dilapi- 
dated structure,  which  had  stood  for  something  like 
one  hundred  years,  and  was  built  in  the  style  of 
that  period.  It  had  large,  square  windows,  a  huge 
iron  latch  to  the  door  ;  a  massive  stone  chimney  ran 
up  through  the  centre  of  the  house,  and  a  tall  well- 
sweep  stood  near  by,  from  which  you  might  draw 
a  most  refreshing  draught  of  cool  water  on  a  hot 
summer's  day.  I  remember  there  was  a  very  large 
fireplace  in  the  sitting-room,  and  there  how  often 


18  Family  Reminiscences. 

would  his  children  and  grandchildren  assemble  to 
listen  to  the  oft-repeated  story  of  those  battle  scenes 
in  which  he  took  part,  and  never  seemed  to  tire  of 
telling,  or  they  of  listening  to  him.     Oh,  how  often 
in  days  gone  by  have  I  stopped  to  take  a  look  at 
the  old  homestead !     There  it  stood,  old  and  going 
to  decay.     True,  its  rooms  were  deserted,  and  no 
longer  echoed  back  the  tread  of  former  years.     The 
broken  panes  were  visible  in  the  shattered  windows. 
But  it  was  interesting,  and  around  it  still  clung 
many  golden  associations  of  days  that  are  past  ■  for 
it  was  once  the  residence  of  my  grandfather — an  old 
hero  of  the  Eevolution.     Let  me  here  give  a  brief 
synopsis  of  his  history:  He  was  born  in  April,  1757, 
in  those  stirring  days  when  our  forefathers  were 
struggling  under  oppression  and  righting  for  free- 
dom and  the  right.     Feeling  the  inspiration  which 
then  fired  the  hearts  of  the  youthful  sons  of  many  of 
our  countrymen,  he  set  out  at  the  early  age  of  nine- 
teen to  join  the  ranks  of  the  Continental  Army,  and 
proceeded  to  the  City  of  New  York,  and  was  there 
at  the  memorable  time  of  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence.   He  was  present  when  the  soldiers  demol- 
ished the  statue  of  King  George,  near  the  Battery, 
on  Broadway.     He  was  at  the  battle  of  Flatbush, 
L.  I.,  and  saw  the  British  take  possession  of  the 


Family  Reminiscences.  19 

fortifications  on  Brooklyn  Heights,  after  they  had 
been  quietly  abandoned  by  the  Americans  during  the 
night  of  August  30th,  1776.  He  assisted  likewise 
in  erecting  the  fortifications  at  Red  Hook,  which 
was  done  during  the  night,  that  our  army  might,  if 
possible,  take  advantage  of  the  enemy.  About  this 
time  he  suffered  much  from  exposure  and  hardship, 
as  all  our  soldiers  did  ;  still  he  kept  firmly  to  his  post 
of  duty,  and  marched  on  with  the  army  into  the 
County  of  Westchester,  after  the  city  had  been 
evacuated  by  the  Americans,  and  participated  in 
and  stood  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight  at  the  famous 
battle  of  White  Plains.  After  this  indecisive  engage- 
ment, as  it  proved  to  be,  he  still  followed  on  with 
the  army  as  far  as  Tarrytown  and  North  Casole,  and 
leaving  the  army  he  returned  to  his  native  place, 
and  arrived  home  on  Christmas  Day,  1776.  He 
joined  the  army  a  second  time,  and  then  started  to 
aid  in  the  capture  of  General  Burgoyne,  but  had  pro- 
ceeded only  as  far  as  Ridgefield  when  the  news  came 
that  Burgoyne  was  a  prisoner.  This  was  the  last  of 
my  grandfather's  participation  in  the  Revolutionary 
conflict.  He  then  took  up  his  abode  in  that  old 
homestead.  He  was  soon  married,  and  reared  a 
family  of  three  sons  and  two  daughters.  I  will  not 
attempt  to  trace  their  history  nor  depict  the  varied 


20  Family  Reminiscences. 

scenes  of  joy  or  sorrow  which  were  witnessed  there. 
None  of  that  household  are  now  living — and  yet 
they  are  not  dead ;  for  they  still  live  in  the  hearts 
and  affections  of  their  descendants.  They  still  live 
in  the  deeds  and  actions  of  their  lives.  These  give 
immortality  to  the  man.  These  survive  the  corrod- 
ing touch  of  Time.  I  often  think  how  much  force 
and  beauty  there  is  in  the  following  lines  of  Long- 
fellow: 


a 


Happy  he  whom  neither  wealth  and  fashion, 
Nor  the  march  of  the  encroaching  city, 

Drives  an  exile 
From  the  hearth  of  the  ancestral  homestead. 
We  may  build  more  splendid  habitations, 
Fill  our  rooms  with  paintings  and  with  sculptures, 

But  we  cannot 
Buy  with  gold  the  old  associations." 


But  I  hasten  now,  Mr.  Editor,  to  give  you  a  brief 
description  of  the  home  of  my  father,  the  late  Rev. 
Samuel  Nichols,  D.D.,  which  lies  not  far  from  the 
site  of  the  old  homestead  just  spoken  of.  It  stands 
fronting  the  public  green  in  the  village  wherein  stood 
the  church  and  school-house  where  Dwight  taught 
his  pupils.  A  little  way  down  the  village  street  may 
also  be  seen  the  identical  house,  now  in  possession  of 
Mr.  Frederick  Bronson,  where  Dr.  Dwight,  the  fam- 


RESIDENCE  OF   THE  LA.TE  REV.  SAMUEL  NICHOLS,  D.  D., 

Geeenfteld  Hell,  Conn, 


Family  Reminiscences.  21 

ous  scholar  and  divine,  resided  for  twelve  years. 
The  house  of  my  father  is  a  wide,  low-roofed  struct- 
ure, with  central  ha'l  and   piazza,  front  and  rear. 
Its    rooms   are    large    and    commodious,   and    well 
adorned  with  fine  pictures,  the  productions  of  one 
of  his   daughters,  a  distinguished  artist.      In  this 
quiet  and  sequestered  nook,  looking  out  upon  the 
green,  covered  with  the  grand  old  elms,  my  father 
spent  the  last  days  of  life's  quiet  evening,  and  here  he 
died  some  two  years  ago,  at  the  advanced  a^e  of 
ninety-two  years.      He  was  born   November   14th, 
1787;  fitted  for  college  at  Easton  Academy,  joined 
the  Sophomore  Class  at  Yale  in  1809,  and  graduated 
in  1811.     Shortly  after  his  graduation  he  became  an 
instructor  in  the  academy  at  Fairfield,  N.  Y.,  where 
he  married  my  mother,  a  lady  of  high   Christian 
character,  belonging  to  one  of  the  old  Knickerbocker 
families  of  New  York.     Her  father  died  when  she 
was  but  seven  years  of  age,  and  she  was  left  in  the 
care  of  her  grandfather,  George  Warner,  a  citizen  of 
New  York,  a  man  much  esteemed  in  his  lifetime, 
and  distinguished  for  his  good  deeds.     He  belonged 
to  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  was  a  prominent  and 
active  leader  in  old  Christ  Church  in  1794,  when  that 
church  stood  near  the  Post-Office,  in  Anthony  street, 
and  afterward  became  connected  with  St.  Stephen's 


22  Family  Reminiscences. 

Church,  in  Broome  street ;  and  what  was  very  sin- 
gular, he  was  very  much  like  a  Methodist,  for  he 
held  his  revival  meetings  for  exhortation  and  prayer, 
at  which  many  converts  were  made,  who  joined 
the  church  under  the  venerable  Dr.  Moore.  He  was 
a  member  of  the  Legislature,  and  while  at  Albany 
held  his  religious  meetings.  What  a  surprise  now 
would  it  be  to  see  such  a  man  at  Albany  !  In  1815 
my  father  became  rector  of  St.  Matthew's  Church, 
Bedford,  N.  Y.,  where  he  remained  for  twenty -two 
years.  As  rector  of  that  parish,  he  was  faithful, 
earnest,  beloved  by  his  people.  It  was  from  this 
parish  that  he  removed  to  his  native  place,  to  spend 
the  declining  years  of  life.  There,  soothed  and 
encouraged  by  the  love  and  attentions  of  his  chil- 
dren and  friends,  he  departed  hence  to  meet  his 
reward. 

' '  Thus  star  by  star  declines 

Till  all  have  passed  away, 
And  morning  high  and  higher  shines 

To  pure  and  perfect  day  ; 
Nor  sink  those  stars  in  empty  night , 
But  hide  themselves  in  heaven's  own  light." 


III. 


How  rapid  is  the  flight  of  time!  Who  would  have 
thought  a  few  weeks  ago,  as  you  rode  along  the 
wooded  roads,  and  beheld  the  yellow  leaves  falling 
upon  the  ground,  and  the  fields  looking  as  green 
as  ever,  that  Winter  would  so  soon  have  come 
upon  us  ?— stern  Winter,  with  its  fierce  winds  and 
frosty  nights.  And  yet  it  is  even  so.  I  sit  in  my 
cosy  parlor  and  look  out  of  the  window,  and 
the  flowers  have  disappeared  from  the  garden.  The 
pines  and  hemlocks  stand  covered  with  snow.  The 
shrill  wind  howls  and  moans  through  the  chimney; 
and,  as  night  approaches  and  reveals  the  starlit 
heavens,  the  moon  casts  her  silvery  beams  over  the 
snow-bound  fields.  How  rapid  is  the  flight  of  time  ! 
And  yet  we  cannot  stay  that  flight;  we  cannot  hold 
these  precious  clays,  and  weeks,  and  hours,  or  pre- 
vent them  slipping  from  our  grasp.  But  (and  it  is  a 
cheering  thought),  we  can  improve  them;  we  can 
turn  our  thoughts  to  indoor  life— to  the  pleasures  of 
home  and  social  intercourse  and  literary  pursuits. 
23 


24  Parish  Memories. 

It  may  not  be  amiss,  Mr.  Editor,  that  in  the  follow- 
ing letter  I  should  ask  the  attention  of  your  readers 
to  a  few  recollections  of  scenes  and  places,  such  as 
have  fallen  within  the  writer's  sphere  of  observation 
in  years  that  are  past.     And — 

First — A  few  recollections  of  my  father's  parson- 
age. It  is  thirty  years,  or  more,  since  the  writer 
visited  the  spot,  and  yet  I  remember  it  distinctly  as 
though  it  were  yesterday.  It  was  a  neat,  white, 
wooden  building,  surrounded  with  a  forest  of  maples 
and  locusts.  The  little  antique  church,  built  of 
brick,  with  tower  and  cupola,  stood  close  by  just 
outside  the  parsonage  gate.  I  remember  all  its 
rooms — the  parlor,  where  we  sat — a  family  group,  in 
pleasant  converse;  the  study,  with  its  shelves  of 
books,  and  table  where  my  father  sat  and  wrote  his 
sermons;  the  chambers,  where  we  slept.  It  was  a 
favorite  walk  with  us  down  the  lane,  which  ran 
through  the  parsonage  ground  to  a  piece  of  woods, 
and  from  thence,  crossing  the  river,  we  frequently 
in  Summer  ascended  a  tall  mountain,  from  whose 
summit  there  might  be  seen  a  very  picturesque  view 
of  forest  and  woodland.  Oh  !  how  often  have  I 
climbed  that  mountain  and  looked  down  with  delight 
on  the  many  objects  below,  then  so  dear  to  the  heart 
of  childhood — the   church   and   the  parsonage,  the 


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Parish  Memories,  25 

schoolhouse  and  other  dwellings  which  occupied  the 
neighborhood. 

How  many  sweet  memories,  how  many  fond  recol- 
lections, cluster  round  that  quiet  old  parsonage  !  It 
was  there  that  the  young  mind  received  its  first 
impressions  of  truth  and  moral  beauty;  there  that 
the  young  affections  were  trained,  and  linked  by  the 
tender  associations  of  home — brother,  sister,  father 
and  mother.  That  father,  who  presided  over  the 
household,  counseled  its  inmates,  and  each  morn  and 
night  kneeled  and  prayed  for  them,  after  the  even- 
ing hymn  was  sung — forget  him  ?  forget  his  counsel 
and  his  prayers  ?  Never  !  That  mother,  who  with 
gentle  eye,  and  sweet  smile,  and  loving  face, 
watched  over  her  children  and  gave  them  her  gentle 
counsels  and  kindly  admonitions.  Forget  her  ?  as 
well  might  you  undertake  to  forget  your  own  being. 
No  !  it  is  impossible;  you  cannot  forget  them.  They 
are  both  gone  to  the  better  land  !  But  oh  !  how  their 
teaching  and  examples  live  !  If  you  could  lift  the 
curtain  that  hides  the  future  you  would  see  that  the 
first  instructions  and  influences  of  home  generally 
decide  what  is  to  be  the  great  governing  principle  of 
life,  and  that  the  destiny  of  youth  is  mostly  shaped 
by  the  hand  of  the  mother. 


26  Parish  Memories, 

Second — Let  me  invite  your  attention  to  a  few  brief 
reminiscences  of  scenes  and  places  connected  with 
parish  life  at  East    Haddam,   on  the   Connecticut 
River.     One  who  has   never  visited  this  portion  of 
the  country  can  scarcely  conceive  the  rare  beauty  of 
the  scenery  along  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut.  The 
picture   is     exceedingly  attractive   as    you   behold 
the   majestic  river  winding  along  its  course  amid 
the  hills  and   meadows.     The  white  sails  are  ever 
moving  upon  its  bosom,  the  steamboats  passing  and 
repassing.     And  then,  looking  out  upon  the  opposite 
bank,  you  behold  the  country  seats,  farms  and  cot- 
tages amid   the  adjoining  groves  and  woods.     The 
town  referred  to,  which  was  the  scene  of  the  writer's 
ministerial  labors,  is  divided  into  two  smaller  vil- 
lages or  hamlets,  each  having  a  landing  for  steam- 
boats and  other  vessels.    There  is  a  road,  a  little  way 
back  from  the  rocky  banks  of  the  river,  which  leads 
from  one  of  these  villages  to  the  other;  and,  as  you 
pass  along  this  road,  the  country  on  the  east  rapidly 
ascends,  sometimes  almost  precipitously.     It  is  upon 
one  of  these  heights,  about  midway  between  the  two 
landings,  that  the  Episcopal  Church  stands,  upon  a 
most  commanding  elevation.     So  lofty  is  the  spot, 
that  the  church  may  be  seen  for  a  distance  of  twelve 


Parish  Memories.  27 


miles  by  any  one  viewing  it  from  the  deck  of  a  steam- 
boat upon  the  river.  It  has  an  unpretending  exter- 
ior, after  the  fashion  of  that  early  period,  having 
I)een  erected  about  the  year  1797.  The  interior  is 
plain.  A  simple  arch  overhead  is  supported  by  long, 
heavy  fluted  columns.  It  contains  an  organ  of  con- 
siderable size,  and  much  power,  and  has  one  rare 
curiosity,  viz.,  a  bell  with  an  inscription  upon  it, 
dating  back  1,035  years.  It  was  one  of  those  old 
Spanish  convent  bells,  a  number  of  which,  some 
years  ago,  found  their  way  into  this  country,  and 
were  distributed  through  the  land.  Could  that  old 
bell  tell  its  history,  how  many  interesting  scenes 
would  it  disclose  ! 

Upon  coming  to  the  place,  my  first  business  was  to 
oocupy  the  room  and  study  which  had  been  fitted  up 
by  the  kindness  and  generosity  of  my  parishioners. 
It  overlooked  the  waters  of  the  river.  The  scene,  as 
I  sat  there,  busy  with  my  books  and  papers,  was  very 
pleasing.  A  small  ferryboat,  large  enough  to  contain 
two  or  three  horses  and  carriages,  was  often  cross- 
ing the  river.  I  learned  from  one  who  had  acted  as 
ferryman  for  several  years  a  most  thrilling  adven- 
ture which  I  here  proceed  to  narrate  for  the  benefit 
of  my  readers.     In  the  Spring  the  river  is  subject  to 


28  Parish  Memories, 

great  freshets.  The  snow  among  the  mountains,, 
melted  by  the  warm  sun,  pours  down  in  innumer- 
able currents  into  the  river,  causing  it  to  be  much 
swollen,  and  not  unfrequently  buildings,  houses  and 
barns,  and  sometimes  families,  are  swept  away.  It  was 
in  one  of  these  seasons  of  freshets  in  the  river  that 

Mr. ,  the  gentleman  just  spoken  of,  undertook 

to  ferry  a  team  with  a  large  load  of  hay  across  the 
river.  The  wind  was  blowing  fresh  as  the  com- 
pany, consisting  of  the  ferryman  and  his  boy,  who 
assisted  him,  and  the  teamster  with  his  load  of  hay, 
started  from  the  shore.  They  had  proceded  safely 
as  far  as  the  middle  of  the  river,  when  the  wind 
seemed  to  swell  into  a  gale.  The  clouds  began  to 
collect  in  wild  and  fearful  commotion.  Amid  the 
howling  of  the  winds,  and  the  roar  of  the  waters, 
the  boat  became  perfectly  unmanageable.  Such  was 
the  fierce  tumult  of  the  wind  and  waves  as  to  carry 
under  the  boat  in  a  moment.  By  some  strange 
chance  of  fortune,  the  team  and  driver  were  saved. 
The  oxen  became  disengaged  from  the  cart,  and  swam 
to  the  other  side  and  were  also  saved.  The  ferry- 
man, after  being  thrown  with  his  boy  into  the  angry 
and  tumultuous  waters,  swam  down  amid  the  cur- 
rent, the  boy  clinging   to    his  back  with  a  death- 


Parish  Memories.  29 

grasp.  He  tried  to  shake  him  off,  fearing  that  he 
would  drown  him,  but  found  he  could  not.  In  the 
meantime,  the  interested  crowd  of  spectators  on  the 
shore  were  anxiously  waiting  and  gazing  with  dim 
eyes  through  the  darkness  to  see  the  fate  of  the  unfor- 
tunate crew.  They  immediately  got  out  a  large  boat, 
followed  hastily  along  the  shore  and  rushed  to  the 
aid  of  the  old  ferryman  and  his  boy.  Both  were 
saved,  and  the  joyful  news  was  soon  borne  to  every 
house  in  the  village. 

When  Mr.  narrated  to  me   this  wonderful 

adventure,  he  added  :  "  I  never  expected  to  weather 
the  fearful  perils  of  that  awful  gale."  But  to  pro- 
ceed with  my  narrative. 

Upon  entering  on  my  duties  in  my  parish,  I  found 
that  the  church  of  late  had  very  much  declined  in 
numbers  and  spiritual  prosperity.  Some  unhappy 
questions  of  a  secular  nature  had  been  suffered  to 
influence  the  minds  of  the  parishioners  and  alienate 
them  from  each  other.  After  laboring,  however,  for 
some  months  among  the  people,  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  beholding  the  parish  manifesting  a  deeper 
interest  in  religious  things  than  they  had  hitherto. 
The  church  was  attended  by  larger  and  more  atten- 
tive congregations,  and  a  more  cordial  spirit  of  unity 


30  Parish  Memories. 

and  good  feeling  began  to  exist  among  its  members. 
And  I  was  also  delighted  to  recognize  not  only  those 
professedly  belonging  to  my  own  church,  but  many 
others  belonging  to  various  religious  denominations, 
who  live  in  the  hamlets  below,  some  three  miles 
distant  from  their  own  church. 

Encouraged  by  the  success  of  my  labors,  I  con- 
tinued on  in  that  parish,  surrounded  by  a  band  of 
faithful  workers,  and  upheld  by  the  hands  of  devoted 
friends  and  parishioners,  until  declining  health  com- 
pelled me  to  leave  for  rest  and  recreation;  nor  shall 
I  soon  forget  the  scene,  as  I  finally  left  a  people  who 
had  shown  me  unremitting  kindness,  among  whom 
I  had  labored  with  the  Divine  blessing. 

It  is  evening.  The  dusky  shades  of  twilight 
deepen.  The  steamer  has  just  come  up  to  the  wharf. 
I  have  shaken  hands  for  the  last  time  with  many  of 
my  warm-hearted  friends  and  parishioners.  I  hasten 
on  board  and  the  boat  quickly  recedes  from  the 
wharf,  and  as  I  stand  upon  the  deck,  I  see,  now  and 
then,  an  anxious  eye  watching  me  and  waving  a 
parting  signal.  I  see  the  window  of  my  study, 
where  I  have  spent  so  many  pleasant  hours,  fading 
from  my  sight,  and  the  church  spire  on  the  hill- 
top vanish,    where  we    have    so  often  communed 


Parish  Memories.  31 

with  God  in  prayer.  Farewell  !  ye  temple  walls, 
which  have  so  often  re-echoed  the  praises  of  our 
God  !  Farewell,  ye  peaceful  homes,  at  whose  fire- 
sides I  have  so  often  sat  and  talked  on  things  spir- 
itual and  divine  !  Farewell,  ye  little  children  of  the 
Sunday-school,  whose  sweet  countenances  have  so 
often  looked  smilingly  on  me  as  I  have  tried  to  lead 
you  in  the  Lord's  pastures  !  May  we  all  meet  a 
united  parish  in  heaven  ! 


IV. 


Will  you  allow  me,  briefly,  to  continue  in  this 
and  the  following  letter  the  sketches  of  scenes  and 
incidents  in  ministerial  and  parish  life  begun  in  my 
last  ?    During  1849-52,  it  was  the  writer's  privilege 

to  minister  in  the  town  of. ,  in  the  County  of 

Litchfield,  Conn.  The  parish  had  been  once  the 
scene  of  Bishop  Griswold's  saintly  labors.  It  was 
here,  amid  these  romantic  hills,  amid  a  simple- 
hearted,  intelligent  and  spiritually-minded  people 
that  this  great  and  good  man  began  his  early  minis- 
try—a ministry  that  was  afterward  to  ripen  into  a 
most  glorious  and  fruitful  harvest.  I  found  there  a 
high  moral  elevation,  an  exalted  spiritual  standard 
of  conduct  and  life  such  as  we  might  naturally  ex- 
pect such  a  man  would  impart.  And  although  years 
had  passed  away,  it  was  easy  to  see  still  the  traces 
of  the  good  bishop's  holy  labors  in  this  parish;  and, 
as  I  often  rambled  in  the  fields  or  climbed  the  hills 
in  search  of  the  farmhouses  of  my  parishioners— 

32 


Parish  Memories,  33 

which  were  scattered  far  and  wide  over  the  country 
—I  could  not  but  call  to  mind  how  these  same  hills 
had  been  trodden  by  the  footsteps  of  him  who  once 
here  broke  the  bread  of  life  to  his  privileged  flock. 
I  found  many  aged  persons  in  whose  recollections 
the  good  bishop's  life  and  labors  were  treasured  up 
as  precious  mementoes  of  their  early  years.  One 
aged  lady,  with  whom  the  bishop  lived,  and  where 
he  studied  and  wrote,  ever  spoke  of  that  good  man 
with  the  utmost  respect  and  friendship.  I  shall  not 
forgot  the  deep  interest  with  which  another,  an  aged 
man,  who  had  also  had  the  honor  of  providing  a 
home  in  his  humble  dwelling  for  the  good  bishop, 
spoke  to  me,  during  his  last  illness,  of  the  life  and 
ministry  of  Bishop  Griswold.  I  found  him  confined 
to  his  sick  bed,  and  in  a  state  of  want.  But  few,  if 
any,  of  his  distant  kindred  seemed  to  take  any  inter- 
est in  the  aged  sufferer.  I  relieved  his  necessities 
from  the  charitable  fund  of  the  parish.  But,  oh,  how 
he  seemed  to  cherish  the  remembrance  of  his  early 
pastor  !  At  the  mention  of  that  name  there  would 
kindle  up  in  the  old  man's  countenance  a  smile 
which  made  him  almost  forget  his  bodily  suffering 
and  the  signs  of  destitution  by  which  he  was  sur- 
rounded. Facts  like  these  serve  to  show  us  what  a 
mighty  hidden  power  for  good  there  is  in  the  teach- 


34  Parish  Memories, 

ing  and  example  of  a  faithful  minister.  Bishop  Gris- 
wold  was  the  father-in-law  of  the  elder  Dr.  Stephen 
H.  Tyng,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  his  eminent 
example  and  singular  devotion  had  an  influence  in 
shaping  the  future  course  and  career  of  his  son-in- 
law,  and  making  him,  as  he  has  been,  a  man  of 
great  power. 

A  somewhat  singular  episode  occurred  while  the 
writer  was  in  charge  of  the  parish  before  named.  I 
received,  one  day,  a  letter  from  a  clerical  brother — 
then  officiating  in  the  parish  of  Salisbury,  in  the 
northwestern  extremity  of  the  State — in  which  he 
wrote  as  follows : 

"Rev.  and  Dear  Brother:  I  am  about  resigning 
my  parish,  in  order  to  accept  a  call  to  the  church 
at  Niagara  Falls.  Our  vestry  here  and  myself  are 
unanimous,  and  we  have  selected  you  as  the  future 
pastor  of  this  church.  We  will  not  take  No  for  an 
answer.     You  must  come.     Faithfully,  yours, 


5? 


I  immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  as  follows  : 

"Rev.  and  Dear  Brother:  Your  letter  has  been 
received.     My  parish  here  is  united,  and  everything 


Parish  Memories.  35 

is  prospering.  I  do  not  think  it  advisable,  even 
though  my  salary  were  increased,  to  leave  the  par- 
ish, and  must  therefore  beg  to  decline  your  urgent 
invitation.        Your  brother  in  Christ,  ." 

In  about  two  weeks  after  this  I  received  another 
and  still  more  urgent  letter,  begging  me  to  reconsider 
my  former  determination,  and  to  come  and  spend  a 
Sunday,  which  I  finally  consented  to  do.  After  vis- 
iting the  parish,  and  thinking  over  the  whole  subject, 
I  resolved  to  accept  the  call,  and,  upon  my  return,  I 
resigned  my  parish;  when,  what  do  you  think 
occurred  ?  A  letter  came,  informing  me  that  my 
reverend  brother  of  Salisbury  had  concluded  not  to 
resign  his  parish.  Some  rumor  had  been  started 
affecting  his  moral  character,  when  all  his  parishion- 
ers immediately  rallied  to  his  support,  determined 
that  he  should  not  resign,  and  that  they  would  stick 
by  him  and  defend  him  to  the  last.  This,  to  say  the 
least,  was  placing  me  in  a  very  awkward  and 
unpleasant  position.  I  was  afloat  without  a  parish. 
What  was  I  to  do  ?  I  suddenly  recalled  to  mind  a 
little  circumstance  which  had  occurred  some  six 
weeks  previously,  when  a  gentleman  belonging  to 
one  of  two  associated  parishes  in  the  western  portion 
of  the  town  called  upon  me  and  inquired    how   I 


36  Parish  Memories. 

would  like  to  change  my  present  cure  for  that  of  the 
two  parishes  he  represented  ?    When  the  question 
was  first  put  to  me  I  replied  in  the  negative.     Were 
those  parishes  still  open  ?    I  resolved  at  once  to  solve 
that  question  and  drove  to  the  house  of  the  gentle- 
man to  whom  I  have  just  referred,  a  distance  of 
about  eight  miles.     He  received  me  cordially,  and 
an  arrangement  was  made  at  once  to  accept  the 
charge  of  these  two  parishes.     It  seemed  to  me  a 
direct  ordering  of  Providence;  for  it  proved  a  far 
more  eligible  and  desirable  field  of  labor  than  either 
the  one  I  had  left  or  the  one  I  proposed  to  accept. 
How  true  is  the  saying  that   "man  proposes,  but 
God  disposes.''    My  cure  now  embraced  two  par- 
ishes, having  two  churches,  four  miles  apart,  and 
running  over  a  territory  eight  miles  long  and  four 
miles  broad.    And  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  prospered 
abundantly  my  labors  in  it.     One  of  my  parisioners, 
or  pewholders,  was  the  mother  of  the  distinguished 
and  most  brilliant  Presbyterian  preacher,  Dr.  Char- 
les Wadsworth,  who  so  long  and  so  successfully  filled 
the  pulpit  of  the  Arch  Street  Presbyterian  Church, 
in  Philadelphia.     I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  a  per- 
sonal acquaintance  with  him,  but  have  been  charmed 
and  delighted  with  his  published  sermons.     In  the 
other  parish,  I  numbered  among  my  most  valued 


Parish  Memories.  37 

parishioners  a  lady  of  high  accomplishments  and 
fine  education — a  daughter  of  the  Eev.  Dr.  Truman 
Marsh,  who  preached  in  St.  Michael's  Church,  Litch- 
field, for  many  years.  He  was  very  hypochondriacal 
and  every  Sunday  became  so  depressed  that  he  could 
not  muster  courage  to  preach.  But  his  wife  would 
encourage  him,  give  him  some  simple  remedy,  and 
tell  him  to  mount  his  horse,  and  he  would  ride, 
accompanied  with  a  hired  man,  to  the  church,  and 
preach  two  most  admirable  sermons,  and  then  return 
home.  This  he  did  until  he  was  very  advanced  in 
life.  It  was  in  Litchfield  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Bayley 
who  was  then  a  clergyman  of  the  Episcopal  Church, 
but  who  afterwards  joined  the  Church  of  Rome,  and 
became  an  archbishop — it  was  here  that  he  became 
enamored  of  a  young  lady  of  high  accomplishments. 

— a  Miss ,  who,  though  she  did  not  marry  him 

(the  laws  of  the  Roman  Church  forbidding  it),  yet 
imbibed  his  teaching,  and  embraced  the  faith  of  that 
Church,  and  went  into  a  convent  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  where  she  resided  for  some  time;  but  I  think 
she  subsequently  renounced  her  faith  in  Romanism, 
and  returned  to  her  Protestant  belief,  friends  and 
home  again,  to  their  great  joy  and  satisfaction.  She 
was  a  very  intelligent  and  lovely  woman,  and  her 
society  was  much  sought  after.     In  her  family  circle., 


38  Parish  Memories. 

which  she  graced,  she  was  the  idol  of  fond  parents 
and  a  large  circle  of  admiring  friends. 

Thus  passed  away  about  four  years  of  ministerial 
life,  amid  the  hills  of  Litchfield,  amid  hospitable 
homes  and  kind  parishioners;  and  in  looking  back  to 
those  four  years,  I  have  much  to  recall  with  pleasure, 
and  nothing  to  regret. 


V. 


There  are  few  cities  of  our  country  around  which 
gathers  a  greater  interest  than  New  Haven.     The 
magnificent  churches  and    other    buildings    which 
surround  and  occupy  the  public  Green,  overshadowed 
by  the  tall,   graceful  elms;    the  highly    educated, 
refined  and  intellectual  character  of  its  people;  the 
College,    with    its    numerous    buildings;    the    Art 
Gallery;  the  Marquand  Chapel;    Library,   etc.,   all 
these  have  given  a  justly-deserved  fame  to  New 
Haven.     During  the  writer's  college  days,  the  city 
had  far  less  claim  to  renown.     It  was  smaller  than  it 
is  now,  the  churches  fewer  and  less  ornamental,  the 
buildings  belonging  to  the  college  plainer  and  much 
less  in  number.     At  that  time  there  were  no  means 
of  access  to  the  place  except  by  stage-coach  and 
steamboat,  and  college  students  found  it  a  long  and 
forbidding  journey  from  their  homes  to  the  college. 
Many  college  scenes,  incidents  and  characters,  still 
remain  indelibly  impressed  on  my  memory.  Though 
young  and  inexperienced,  I  had  left  my  home  well- 
trained  under  the  teaching  and  example  of  Christian 
39 


40  Yale   College, 

parents,  and,  therefore,  was  not  so  likely  as  many 
others  to  be  drawn  into  any  wild  and  dangerous 
pranks,  such  as  often  occur  among  college  students. 
I  remember  hearing  of  one  of  these  reckless  and 
silly  adventures  which  occurred  many  years  since  at 
Yale.  A  party  of  students,  bent  on  mischief  and 
fun,  went  out  and  robbed  a  neighboring  farmer  of 
one  of  his  turkeys.  They  brought  the  turkey  home, 
dressed  it,  and  resolved  to  have  a  feast  in  one  of 
their  rooms.  Here  they  assembled  one  evening, 
cooked  the  turkey,  made  the  fixings  and  gravy,  and 
all  sat  down  to  enjoy  their  evening's  repast.  They 
had  nearly  finished  when  a  loud  rap  was  heard  on 
the  door  from  a  tutor  or  professor.  "What  should 
they  do  ?  It  would  not  do  to  be  caught  in  that  situa- 
tion. It  was  instantly  resolved  to  remove  all  traces 
of  the  feast.  The  turkey  and  dishes  were  secreted, 
and,  not  having  any  other  place,  they  poured  the 
gravy  into  one  of  their  boots.  One  of  their  number 
reads  from  the  Scripture  the  chapter  containing  the 
passage:  "A  wicked  and  adulterous  generation 
seeketh  after  a  sign;  but  no  sign  shall  be  given  them 
but  the  sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonas,"  etc.  Another, 
with  serious  and  solemn  tone,  utters  a  prayer.  Thus, 
they  escaped  detection,  and  the  professor  passed  on. 
Among  those  who  left  a  very  strong  and  enduring 


THE  REV.  HARRY  CROSWELL,   D.  D., 
Rector  of   Trinity  Church,   New   Haven,   Conn. 


Rev.   Dr.   Croswell.  41 

impression  at  that  time  on  the  writer's  mind  was 
President  Day,  a  most  excellent  and  venerable  man, 
of  whom  it  has  been  said  wittily,  that  "he  was  a, 
man  without  either  original  sin  or  actual  transgres- 
sion." I  remember,  also,  the  striking  appearance  of 
Professor  Daggett;  Professor  Goodrich,  who  taught 
the  students  in  elocution;  Professor  Silliman,  whose 
lectures  on  chemistry  and  geology  were  a  rich  treat 
to  his  audience;  and  last,  not  least,  I  remember  dis- 
tinctly the  appearance  of  the  venerable  Rector  of 
Trinity  Church — Dr.  Harry  Croswell — whose  tall 
figure  and  manly  form,  clerical  garb,  and  high- 
topped  boots  with  knee-buckles,  impressed  every 
beholder,  as  they  saw  him.  walk  the  streets  of  New 
Haven.  Dr.  Croswell  was,  in  many  respects,  a  most 
wonderful  man.  He  was  not  a  great  or  very 
eloquent  preacher,  but  he  had  a  right  heart,  and  an 
earnest  will,  and  an  extraordinary  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  could  ingratiate  himself  into 
every  man's  heart.  He  commanded  the  highest 
regard,  not  only  among  his  own  people,  but  among 
Christians  of  every  name.  He  died  in  1858,  aged 
seventy-nine.  When  he  first  entered  on  his  duties 
as  Rector  of  Trinity  Church,  there  was  but  one 
Episcopal  Church  in  New  Haven.  Now  there  are 
nine.     It  was  during  the  early  part  of  my  ministry, 


42  Bev.   Dr.   Croswell. 

being  then  without  a  parish,  that  I  made  a  call  on 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Croswell.  He  received  me  most  cor- 
dially, and  directed  my  attention  to  two  vacant 
parishes  in  the  vicinity.  One  of  these  was  a  rural 
town,  far  behind  the  age  in  scientific  and  educa- 
tional advantages,  and  still  clinging  with  great  tena- 
city to  their  old  superstitions  and  crude  notions  of 
men  and  things.  A  wag,  one  day,  was  asked  by  a 
person  whom  he  met,  "  What  do  you  think  of  this 
town  ?"  "  Why,"  said  he,  "  I  will  tell  you,  and  I  do 
not  know  how  better  to  express  my  meaning  than  in 
two  lines  of  poetry: 


A  big  meeting-house,  a  tall  steeple, 

A  superstitious  priest,  and  a  rickety  people.' 


This  was  literally  true;  the  one  minister,  who  had 
been  there  from  time  immemorial,  had  a  large  stone 
church,  and  had  come  to  think  that  no  one  else 
ought  to  have  any  jurisdiction  over  the  people, 
either  in  politics  or  religion;  for  at  one  time  he  had 
driven  out  the  Methodists,  and  at  another  attempted 
to  scatter  the  Episcopalians,  by  preaching  one  Sun- 
day a  sermon  in  his  church  in  which  he  threw  all  the 
bishops  off  the  throne  and  took  the  chair  himself. 
The  Episcopalian  Church  was  a  very  diminu- 
tive,   barn-like    structure,    and   hence,    on   coming 


Rev.   Dr.    Croswell.  43 

Into  the  place,  I  immediately  directed  my  most 
strenuous  efforts  to  rousing  the  people  and  urging 
them  to  build  a  more  decent  and  respectable  house 
for  the  worship  of  God.  I  knew  that  it  would  help 
greatly  to  further  this  object  to  enlist  the  sympathies 
and  attention  of  my  friend,  Dr.  Croswell.  I  laid  the 
whole  subject  before  him.  He  brought  the  matter 
before  the  ladies  of  his  church,  and  they  helped  us 
greatly  in  a  fair  which  was  held  in  the  town-hall  to 
raise  funds  for  the  new  church.  A  subscription, 
which  was  very  successful,  was  started  in  the 
parish,  and  the  result  was  that  a  new  and  beautiful 
Gothic  church  was  built,  and  furnished,  and  car- 
peted in  the  short  space  of  three  or  four  months,  and, 
what  was  better  than  all,  was  paid  for. 

After  the  edifice  was  completed,  we  held  our  open- 
ing service,  at  which  Dr.  Croswell  was  present,  and 
took  part,  much  to  my  satisfaction,  as  well  as  that 
of  the  congregation.  Dr.  Morgan,  of  St.  Thomas 
Church,  New  York  (then  the  assistant  of  Dr.  Cros- 
well), also  participated  in  the  services.  It  was  an 
interesting  occasion,  and  one  long  to  be  remembered; 
and  I  was  frequently  afterwards  accosted  by  neigh- 
boring brother-clergymen  who  would  say  to  me  : 

"  Why,  Brother ,  it  seems  almost  a  miracle.     I 

wonder  how  you  could  take  hold  of  such  a  feeble 


44  Rev.   Dr.    Croswell. 

little  church,  in  such  a  community — so  much  behind 
the  age,  and  withal  so  penurious  as  they  were,  and 
induce  them  to  build  that  beautiful  church."  I  have 
never  regretted  since  that  I  called  on  my  good 
friend,  the  distinguished  rector  of  Trinity,  and  took 
his  advice,  for  it  proved  a  most  successful  under- 
taking; and  the  church  has  since  prospered,  a  par- 
sonage having  been  built  and  the  church  well 
attended. 

After  having  spent  about  fourteen  years  of  my  life 
in  ministerial  duty,  in  various  fields  of  labor  in  the 
State  of  Connecticut,  Mr.  Editor,  I  moved  to  your 
goodly  city  of  Brooklyn,  where  I  have  resided,  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  brief  intervals,  until  my 
removal  to  this  place — "  Waldegrave  Cottage.1' 
When  I  went  to  Brooklyn,  and  during  the  many 
years  of  my  sojourn  there,  my  health  had  not  been 
fully  adequate  to  the  care  of  a  parish,  so  that  I  have 
been  under  the  necessity  of  turning  my  attention  to 
business  in  order  to  live.  By  the  blessing  of  God, 
success  has  attended  me,  and  my  years  in  Brooklyn 
have  glided  on  smoothly  and  happily  amid  the  kindly 
intercourse  of  genial  friends  and  intellectual  com- 
panions. 

On  Sunday,  while  we  have  frequented  and  enjoyed 
the  privileges  of  worship  in  our  sanctuary,  we  have 


Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  45 

occasionally  derived  great  satisfaction  and  profit 
from  listening  to  the  discourses  of  other  eminent 
divines  in  the  City  of  Churches — particularly  those 
of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Scudder,  whom  I  have  always  looked 
upon  as  a  preacher  having  few  rivals  in  this  or  any 
^country.  Frequently,  when  dull  and  depressed,  I 
liave  started  with  my  wife  on  a  Sunday  evening  for 
the  church,  which  was  near  by,  and  after  listening 
with  great  pleasure  to  Dr.  Scudder,  have  returned 
home,  my  whole  moral  and  intellectual  nature 
elevated  and  impressed  by  the  theme  of  his  discourse 
— so  skillfully  unfolded  and  illustrated  as  to  form 
the  subject  for  a  most  delightful  hour's  conversation. 
I  wonder  not  that  he  is  so  successful  in  gathering 
large  congregations  around  him.  But  while  we  often 
look  back  and  recall  with  pleasure  the  many  happy 
days  and  hours  spent  in  the  society  of  kindred  and 
friends,  the  memories  of  pleasant  and  profitable 
Sabbaths,  and  week-day  lectures  by  men  of  note  and 
distinction  to  which  we  have  listened  with  delight, 
yet  we  regret  not  that  these  have  been  exchanged 
for  a  new  Summer  home  in  the  country,  where, 
instead  of  being  pent  up  in  a  narrow  inclosure  and 
confined  to  a  space  of  a  few  feet,  we  may  look  out 
upon  the  broad  landscape  of  mountain  and  valley, 
and  listen  to  the  matin  songs  of  birds  in  springtime, 


46  Brooklyn,  N.  Y, 

breathe  in  the  air  scented  with  the  perfume  of  blos- 
soms and  the  new-mown  hay  ;  listening  no 
longer  to  the  continual  clatter  of  carts  and  vehicles, 
nor  to  the  endless  buzz  of  business  in  the  crowded 
street,  but  to  the  gentle  sighing  of  the  wind  among 
the  trees  of  the  forest,  the  murmur  of  the  mountain 
rivulet,  or  the  bleating  of  the  flocks  and  herds  upon 
the  hillside.  But  it  is  time,  Mr.  Editor,  to  draw  this 
letter  to  a  close.  So  I  bid  you  adieu,  and  reserve 
what  more  I  have  to  say  to  another  time. 


VI. 


In  the  following  letter  I  have  thought  it  might  not 
be  amiss  for  me  to  present  to  the  readers  of  your 
Magazine  a  few  reflections  which  have  suggested 
themselves  to  my  mind  at  this  somewhat  protracted 
period  of  life. 

1.  And  on  looking  back  over  life's  pilgrimage,  I 
have  been  profoundly  impressed  with  the  wonderful 
discoveries  which  have  been  made  in  human  science, 
as  applied  to  the  comforts  and  conveniences  of  civil- 
ized life.  Had  any  one  in  my  childhood  told  me  that 
I  would  live  to  see  the  day  when  steam  cars  would 
fly  across  the  country,  carrying  passengers  and 
freight  at  the  rapid  rate  of  forty  or  fifty  miles  an 
hour;  or  messages  would  be  transmitted  from  city  to 
city  in  the  space  of  a  few  moments;  or  persons  could 
converse  with  each  other  by  telephone  in  distant 
places;  or  news  from  foreign  lands  would  reach  us, 
transmitted  by  cables  under  the  ocean,  so  quickly  as 
to  be  published  in  the  morning  papers  and  read  at 
47 


48  Life's  Betrospect. 

our  breakfast  tables — I  say,  had  any  one  made  such 
marvellous  statements  as  these,  in  my  youthful 
days,  who  would  have  believed  them  ?  And  yet  they 
are  true.  I  remember,  when  but  a  child,  leaving 
home,  scarcely  ten  years  old,  and  riding  with  my 
father  through  the  county  of  Westchester,  in  the 
State  of  New  York — a  distance  of  forty-five  miles — 
all  the  way  in  a  rumbling  stage-coach,  and  arriving 
just  at  the  dusk  of  evening  at  the  house  of  my  grand- 
father, which  stood  then  not  far  from  Yauxhall  Gar- 
den, surrounded  by  flower  garden  and  apple  orchard, 
with  a  plant-house  and  stables  and  carriage-house  in 
the  rear.  It  was  his  country  seat,  to  which  he  had 
repaired  from  the  heat,  noise  and  dust  of  the  city 
below,  where  he  might  enjoy  the  fresh  air  and  the 
perfume  of  the  sweet  blossoms  of  fragrant  tulips  and 
hyacinths.  I  can  remember,  too,  the  public  open 
road  through  which  our  four-wheeled  coach  and 
horses  drove  along,  slowly,  by  a  solitary  road,  with 
a  scattered  dwelling  now  and  then,  where  now  stand 
whole  blocks  of  palatial  residences,  marble  palaces, 
and  stores  and  gorgeous  churches.  I  can  also  call  to 
mind  with  what  a  thrilling  sensation  of  delight  we 
rose  early  in  the  morning  and  set  out  with  our  two- 
seated  open  farm- wagon  (our  company  consisting  of 
father,  mother  and  myself)  and  drove  the  whole  day 


Life's  Retrospect.  49 

long  till  sunset — a  journey  of  fifty  miles — on  a  visit 
to  our  distant  kindred  in  the  State  of  Connecticut. 

Ah !  those  were  happy,  joyous  days;  we  never 
tired  of  the  beautiful  scenery  along  the  road,  the 
faces  we  saw,  the  green  fields  and  forest  trees, 
the  villages  with  their  dwellings,  and,  above  all,  the 
hearty  greetings  we  received  and  the  warm  welcome 
as  we  drove  within  the  gate,  and  entered  the  old, 
well-remembered  door  with  its  iron  latch.  Oh,  those 
were  indeed  happy  days!  we  do  not  expect  to  see 
their  like  again.  But  we  would  not  think  of  travel- 
ing so  now.  If  we  were  going  now  to  Newport  or 
the  White  Mountains,  we  would,  very  likely,  take  a 
palace-car,  and  reach  there  in  a  single  day.  But,  I 
remember,  it  was  just  after  leaving  college  (no  such 
thing  then  as  steam-cars  and  steamboats),  we  set  out 
(father  and  myself)  with  our  faithful  horse  and  open 
wagon.  It  was  a  long,  long  journey.  It  took  us 
weeks  to  accomplish  it.  We  crossed  into  the  State 
of  Connecticut,  and  then  followed  the  road  leading 
through  those  beautiful  towns  lying  on  the  Sound — 
to  New  Haven,  with  its  colleges,  its  famous  trees,  its 
State-house  and  churches.  Thence  we  drove  on, 
passing  through  Wallingford,  Meriden,  Berlin,  to  the 
thriving  city  of  Hartford,  with  its  fine  streets  and 
noble    churches;    and    from    thence  we  passed  on 


50  Life's  Betrospect. 

through  Springfield,  over  Mount  Tom,  in  sight  of 
Holyoke;  stopping  a  day  or  two  at  the  romantic  little 
village  of  Bellows  Falls,  also  at  Windsor,  beneath 
the  shadow  of  Mount  Ascutney,  until  we  reached  the 
towering,  majestic  peaks  of  Mount  Washington  and 
Lafayette;  and  all  this  distance  we  drove  on  day  by 
day,  hour  by  hour,  but  did  not  tire;  the  endless  diver- 
sity of  scenery  and  new  objects,  the  fresh,  invigorat- 
ing air  as  we  rode  along,  the  relish  we  had  for  our 
meals  at  the  neat  and  comfortable  little  inns  scat- 
tered along  the  road,  far  more  than  compensated  us 
for  our  lengthy  travel.  But  who  would  think  of 
taking  such  a  journey,  now,  when  you  may  ride  in  a 
single  day  or  night  all  this  distance  in  luxurious  pal- 
ace-cars ?  As  we  look  back  over  the  past  to  those 
by-gone  days,  what  a  mighty  contrast  it  seems 
to  present  to  this  day,  when  in  the  onward 
march  of  civilization  time  and  distance  are  almost 
annihilated;  when  huge  ocean  steamers,  splendidly 
furnished  can  cross  the  water  and  reach  their  desti- 
nation in  the  brief  space  of  seven  days;  or  when  we 
may  look  out  upon  that  wonderful  triumph  of  art  and 
science,  the  Brooklyn  Bridge,  which  may  well  com- 
mand the  admiration  of  the  world. 

2.  But  another  thought  impresses  me  as  I  take  a 
retrospect  of  life,  and  that  is  :    the  great  change 


Life's  Retrospect.  51 

which  has  taken  place  during  that  time  in  the  aspect 
of  the  moral  and  religious  world.     Fifty  years  ago, 
there  were  few  churches,  few  educational  and  reli- 
gious institutions.     The  country  was  covered  with  a 
comparatively  poor  and  sparse  population.     Clergy- 
men, few  as  they  were,   were  much  more   appre- 
ciated,   however,   than  they  are  now.      Since  that 
time  the  country  has  made  rapid  and  wonderful  pro- 
gress.     States  have  been    multiplied,   towns    have 
sprung  up,  all  over  the  land  the  resources  of  material 
wealth  have  increased.     Over  fifty  millions  of  people 
now  dwell  where  then  were  but  ten  or  fifteen  mil- 
lions.    Churches  have  been  multiplied,  theological 
seminaries  have  been  established,  and  everywhere 
Christian  temples  and  schools  are  to  be  found.  Then, 
a  few  humble  churches,  such  as  the  people  could 
afford,  were  to  be  seen.     Now,  majestic  temples  are 
to  be  found,  adorned  with  all  the  elegance  and  taste 
of  magnificent  architecture.     When  I  think  of  those 
days  of  feebleness,   those  humble  beginnings,   and 
then  glance  at  the  present  and  think  of  the  varied, 
means  and  agencies,  now  in  active  operation,  to  pro- 
mote the  moral  and  spiritual  education  of  men,  to 
diffuse  the  Gospel's  saving  truths  among  the  desti- 
tute, the  ignorant,  and  the  degraded  of  our  race,  I 
cannot  but  wonder  at  the  marvellous  change  that 


52  Life's  Retrospect. 

has  taken  place.  I  cannot  but  ask  what  is  to  be  the 
future  of  this  great  country — a  country  which  has 
already  advanced  during  a  hundred  years,  from 
three  millions  to  fifty  millions  of  inhabitants,  and 
which  is  large  enough  to  contain  four  hundred  mil- 
lions, with  the  same  population  to  the  square  mile 
as  Great  Britain.  When  I  look  at  these  blessed 
results,  I  cannot  but  take  hope  for  my  country.  I 
have  no  sympathy  with  those  downcast  looks,  those 
gloomy  forebodings  which  some  cherish,  aye,  even 
some  Christians,  who  seem  to  think  that  because 
infidelity,  and  crime,  and  wickedness  prevail ;  be- 
cause we  hear  an  occasional  outburst  of  blasphemy 
from  some  infidel ;  or  because  Romanism  lifts  its 
head  and  seeks  to  dupe  the  free  and  enlightened  citi- 
zens of  this  republic,  but  seeks  in  vain;  or,  because 
political  bribery  and  corruption  are  to  be  found,  that, 
therefore,  the  Gospel  must  fail,  the  world  is  to  be 
given  over  to  sin  and  Satan,  and  things  generally  go 
to  pieces.  No,  no  !  away  with  such  a  pusillanimous, 
weak  faith  as  that !  Let  us  act  more  worthy  of  the 
noble  cause  we  have  in  hand,  and  instead  of  wasting 
time  in  vain  regrets  and  desponding  thoughts  over 
the  sad  results  of  evil,  let  us  rather  gird  up  our  loins 
afresh,  and  stand  firm  as  defenders  of  the  truth. 
And  this  leads  me  to  state  one  thing  more,  which 


Life's  Retrospect.  53 

the  review  of  the  past  has  most  strongly  impressed 
upon  me,  viz.,  this  : 

3.  That  the  older  I  grow,  and  the  longer  I  live,  the 
more  I  am  convinced  of  the  vast  and  unspeakable 
importance  of  the  Bible.  It  is,  emphatically,  the 
Book  of  books.  There  is  nothing  which  can  be  sub- 
stituted for  it.  It  is  infallible.  It  teaches  the  truth 
concerning  a  future  life,  and  the  relations  of  that  life 
to  us,  and  how  we  may  make  that  future  life  a 
happy  one.  It  is  our  rule  of  life,  our  hope  in  death ; 
placing  our  faith  and  trust  in  the  Saviour  therein 
revealed  to  us,  we  may  die  happy  and  peaceful.  You 
may  try  to  disparage  the  Bible  if  you  will,  or  put 
away  from  you  the  truth  that  that  book,  and  that 
book  alone,  tells  you  of,  namely,  your  immortality, 
and  how  to  secure  it,  but  you  will  be  left  in  darkness, 
afloat  on  a  sea  without  chart  or  compass. 

John  Jay,  when  Ambassador  to  France,  was  once 
in  a  company  of  infidels.  They  talked  on  recklessly, 
venting  their  spite  on  the  Bible ;  Jay  was  silent ;  it 
troubled  them.  He  did  not  pronounce  their  shib- 
boleth. They  could  not  go  on,  while  that  grave,  just 
man  sat  there,  a  sort  of  solemn  judge,  riveting  at  last 
their  gaze.  No  wonder  his  bearing  forced  them  to 
speak,  and  when  they  asked,  as  if  to  relieve  them- 


54  Life's  Retrospect. 

selves  of  their  confusion,  and  provoke  his  acquies- 
cence. k<  Do  vou  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  ?"  his  silence 
had  prepared  the  way  for  his  confusing  and  con- 
founding answer  :  "  I  do,  and  I  thank  God  that  I  do." 
He  was  silent  at  the  right  time,  and  when  he  spoke 
said  the  right  thing. 


VII. 


Allow  me  in  the  following  letter  to  lay  before 
you  a  few  pen-pictures  of  life  and  character  which 
it  has  been  my  privilege  to  know  and  admire. 
Looking  back  over  the  past,  I  will  endeavor  to  draw 
them  as  they  stand  in  memory's  portrait  gallery. 

I.  The  first  shall  be  that  of  John  Jay — the  pure, 
noble  patriot  and  Christian  statesman ;  the  friend 
and  associate  and  co-laborer  of  Washington;  the 
stanch  defender  of  truth  and  right ;  the  man  of  stern 
principle  and  incorruptible  moral  integrity,  both  in 
public  and  private  life.  How  his  character  looms 
up,  like  a  bright  star  in  the  political  horizon,  reflect- 
ing glory  and  lustre  on  his  name  and  rebuking  the 
selfish  political  corruption  and  bribery  of  this  degen- 
erate age.  I  remember  well — though  then  but  a 
small  lad — the  open,  serene,  placid  countenance  of 
John  Jay,  as  he  sat  at  his  family  fireside,  in  the 
old  family  mansion,  at  Bedford,  in  the  State  of 
New  York.  His  noble  and  impressive  features,  fine 
forehead,  bright  eye,  his  intellectual  cast  of  coun- 
55 


56  Chief -Justice  John  Jay, 

tenance  and  polite,  engaging  manners,  could  not 
but  impress  the  beholder  at  once.  You  could  see 
there  intellectual  greatness  combined  with  the  mod- 
esty and  humility  of  the  Christian.  As  a  statesman, 
he  was  distinguished  for  his  intellectual  force  and 
political  sagacity.  In  all  the  high  positions  to  which 
he  was  called— as  guide  and  counselor  with  other 
eminent  patriots  and  statesmen  of  the  Revolution ; 
as  author  of  the  State  Constitution  of  1777,  and  as 
Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States ;  as  Ambassador  to  foreign  courts,  in  trying 
and  difficult  periods  of  the  history  of  the  country ; 
as  Governor  of  the  State  of  New  York— in  all  these 
positions  of  trust  and  power  John  Jay  shone  pre- 
eminently as  a  man  of  far-reaching  political  wisdom 
and  incorruptible  moral  integrity.  What  a  bright 
and  illustrious  example  does  he  present  to  the  men 
in  power  of  this  day?  "Would  to  God  that  more 
might  follow  him  as  their  model.  In  the  domestic 
relations  of  life,  too,  as  an  excellent  father  and  wise 
counselor  of  his  children,  he  was  a  rare  model.  Dr. 
A.  H.  Stephens,  an  eniment  physician  of  New  York, 
once  said:  "I  was  summoned  to  Bedford  to  visit, 
professionally,  the  overseer  of  Governor  Jay's  farm  : 
after  having  finished  my  duties  at  the  farm-house 
I  went,  by  invitation,  to  the  mansion  of  the  veiier- 


IV 


Chief-Justice  John  Jay.  5? 


able  statesman.  That  the  seeds  of  evil  implanted 
in  our  nature  have  not  borne  more  and  ranker  fruit 
in  the  speaker,  I  owe  to  that  night's  rest  under  the 
roof  of  that  honored  family.  When  tempted  sorely 
to  evil,  I  recall  the  scene  in  the  family  parlor  of  the 
venerable  patriarch,  his  children  and  household,  and 
those  within  his  gates,  uniting  in  thanksgiving,  con- 
fession and  prayer.  Sir,  it  was  more  like  heaven 
upon  earth  than  anything  I  ever  witnessed  or  con- 
ceived. It  was  worth  more  than  all  the  sermons  I 
ever  listened  to." 

John  Jay  was  a  devout,  exemplary  member  of 
the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  believing  it  to  be 
most  evangelical  and  scriptural.  He  gave  liberally 
of  his  means  for  its  support.  Indeed,  more  than 
half  the  cost  of  the  erection  of  St.  Matthew's 
Church,  at  Bedford,  was  borne  by  him.  But,  while 
he  loved  his  own  church,  and  participated  in  its 
worship  every  Lord's  Day,  as  long  as  he  was  not 
prevented  by  age  and  increasing  infirmities,  he  ever 
manifested  a  kindly  sympathy  and  regard  for  all 
other  Christian  bodies,  having  little  or  no  respect, 
however,  for  the  idle  ceremonies  and  arrogant  and 
corrupt  teachings  of  the  Romish  Church  and  priest- 
hood. I  have  still,  as  memory  wanders  back  to 
those  eventful  times,  a  most  distinct  and  beautiful 


58  Chief-Justice  John  Jay. 

impression  of  John  Jay  surrounded  by  his  children 
at  the  old  Bedford  home — all  bound  to  each  other  by 
the  tie  of  deep  unselfish  love.  It  was  a  beautiful 
sight  to  behold,  as  the  members  of  that  household 
vied  with  each  other  in  bestowing  little  acts  of  kind- 
ness, and  a  watchful  sympathy  over  their  aged  and 
honored  father.  There  were  those  two  Christian 
sisters — his  daughters,  Mrs.  Banyer  and  Miss  Ann 
Jay — whose  pure  lives  and  noble  deeds  of  mercy  and 
charity  have  been  bequeathed,  a  rich  heritage,  to 
the  Church  on  earth.  There,  too,  was  an  honored 
son  of  John  Jay,  the  late  William  Jay,  who  enjoyed, 
during  his  lifetime,  the  well-deserved  reputation  of 
an  able  advocate  and  learned  judge,  who  died  in 
the  Christian  faith,  and  whose  dust  reposes  now, 
along  with  others  of  his  family,  beside  the  old  parish 
church  of  St.  Matthew.  These  lives,  spent  in  the 
seclusion  and  retirement  of  this  Christian  home  and 
in  active  efforts  to  relieve  the  poor  and  afflicted, 
their  spiritual  labors  and  works  of  charity,  which 
were  done,  in  a  quiet  way,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
widow,  and  orphan,  and  destitute  missionary — these 
present  a  bright  and  interesting  record,  and  form 
a  fitting  close  to  that  eventful  life  which  took  place 
May  17th,  1829.  Thus  lived  and  died  John  Jay, 
the   friend  and    associate  of    Washington,   having 


THE  RT.  REV.  THOMAS  CHURCH  BROWNELL,  D.D.,  LL.D., 

Third  Bishop  of  Connecticut. 


Bishop  Brownell,  59 

borne  a  noble  part  in  the  formation  of  this  great 
Republic,  honored  and  lamented  by  the  whole  coun- 
try, whose  respect  and  confidence  he  had  so  richly 
enjoyed  during  his  lifetime. 

II.  I  will  briefly  touch  upon  the  life  and  character 
of  Dr.  Thomas  C.  Brownell,  Bishop  of  the  Diocese  of 
Connecticut,  for  forty-six  years,  and  engaged  in 
active  service  during  that  period,  with  the  exception 
of  a  few  years  previous  to  his  death,  which  occurred 
January  13th,  1865,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
five  years.  During  his  episcopate,  the  Episcopal 
Church  made  rapid  advances  in  Connecticut,  there 
being  at  the  time  of  his  entrance  upon  office  but 
seven  self-supporting  parishes,  and  thirty -four 
clergymen.  These,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  had 
increased  to  ninety  parishes,  and  one  hundred  and 
thirty  clergymen.  Few  bishops  have  fulfilled  their 
sacred  trust,  and  discharged  the  high  duties  of 
their  sacred  office,  with  more  zeal,  devotion  and 
wisdom  than  good  Bishop  Brownell.  To  the  varied 
gifts  of  human  learning  and  theological  attain- 
ments of  the  highest  order,  he  united  the  most 
ardent  piety  and  spiritual  devotion,  together  with 
all  the  kindness,  and  courtesy,  and  affectionate 
regard,  and  personal  interest  in  his  clergy,  which 


60  Bishop  Brownell. 

make  a  bishop  so  acceptable.  It  fell  to  the  lot  of 
the  writer  to  be  under  the  supervison  of  Bishop 
Brownell  for  a  period  of  ten  years,  during  his 
active  ministry  in  various  fields  of  labor  in  Con- 
necticut. I  frequently  look  back  with  the  utmost 
satisfaction  and  pleasure  to  my  intercourse  with 
him.  He  always  manifested  a  most  friendly  and 
affectionate  regard  for  me,  took  great  pains  to  see 
that  I  was  usefully  occupied  in  some  field  of  parish 
work,  and  rejoiced  to  know  that  my  labors  were 
successful.  He  did  not  wait  for  his  clergy  to  come 
to  him,  but  he  sought  them  out,  and  kept  them 
engaged  in  useful  fields  of  labor,  and  soon  made 
every  one  of  his  clergy  feel  that  he  was  their  best 
friend,  as  well  as  their  bishop.  No  considerations  of 
personal  dignity  or  ecclesiastical  honor  could  make 
him  forget  the  welfare,  or  be  indifferent  to  the 
wishes  or  wants,  of  those  over  whom  he  was  set  to 
watch  as  their  spiritual  overseer. 

The  name  of  Bishop  Brownell.  and  the  memory  of 
his  life  and  deeds,  will  be  fragrant  in  the  Church 
during  the  ages  to  come.  He  was  strongly  attached 
to  his  own  Church  and  faith,  and  lived  and  toiled 
and  labored  incessantly  to  promote  its  best  welfare. 
But  none  ever  heard  him  speak  otherwise  than  with 
the  kindest  Christian  feeling  and  courtesy  toward 


Hon.  John   A.  Lott.  61 

all  other  Christian  bodies.  One  has  only  to  read  his 
work  called  "  The  Religion  of  the  Heart  and  Life," 
in  which  he  quotes  largely  from  eminent  Presby- 
terian ministers,  to  see  how  highly  he  esteemed 
them.     Such  was  the  character  of  Bishop  Brownell. 

III.  But  I  proceed  to  give  a  brief  sketch  of  one 
more  character  whom  it  was  my  privilege  to  meet 
with  and  know  well,  viz.,  the  late  Hon.  John  A. 
Lott,  long  one  of  the  judges  of  the  Supreme  Court 
in  Brooklyn,  and  also  a  judge  of  the  Court  of 
Appeals  in  the  State  of  New  York,  one  of  the 
highest  judicial  offices  of  that  great  State.  It  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  say  much  of  the  high  standing 
and  character  of  Judge  Lott.  He  was  too  well 
known  to  require  it.  Suffice  it  to  say  he  was  a  great 
lawyer  and  a  great  judge,  and  filled  all  the  high 
positions  of  office  and  public  trust  to  which  he  was 
called,  with  distinguished  ability  and  success.  He 
was  not  only  a  learned  judge,  distinguished  for  his 
marked  ability,  industry  and  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  law,  but  he  was  a  good  man — good  as  he  was 
great  —  active  and  zealous  in  the  service  of  the 
Church  to  which  he  belonged,  and  gave  liberally  of 
his  means  to  promote  its  welfare.  In  the  beautiful 
rural  village   of  Flatbush,   which  lies  just   out  of 


62  Hon.  John  A.  Lott. 

Brooklyn,  adjoining  Prospect  Park,  there  stands  on 
the  main  avenue,  which  runs  through  the  centre  of 
the  town,  the  plain  house  which  was  long  the  home 
and  residence  of  Judge  Lott  and  his  family.  His 
two  sons  occupy  stately,  fine  residences  near  him, 
and  his  son-in-law,  Rev.  Dr.  C.  L.  Wells,  lives  in 
the  parsonage  of  the  Dutch  Church  near  by.  I  shall 
not  soon  forget  the  exceeding  kindness,  the  genial 
temper  and  most  hospitable,  pleasant  manner  of 
the  judge  as  I  have  made  occasional  visits  with 
my  wife  (she  being  related  to  him)  at  that  home  just 
described. 

It  was  an  exceedingly  pleasant  drive  from  our 
Brooklyn  home  through  the  shaded  roadways  of 
the  park,  in  sight  of  flowering  shrubs  and  dog- wood 
blossoms,  into  the  pretty  village  of  Flatbush — past 
the  venerable  old  Dutch  Church,  with  its  tall  spire 
peering  through  the  trees,  to  the  pleasant  residence 
of  the  judge.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  kind,  cor- 
dial reception  given  to  us  by  him  and  his  excellent 
lady ;  and  as  memory  wanders  back,  we  love  to 
recall  those  pleasant  hours.  Although  these  dear 
friends  no  longer  greet  us  with  their  presence  and 
kindly  words,  sleeping  silently  beneath  the  shades  of 
Greenwood,  yet  we  love  still  to  think  of  them,  not 
as  lost,  but  only  gone  before. 


VIII. 

The  three  sweetest  words  in  the  English  tongue, 
it  has  been  justly  said,  are  "  mother,"  "  home,"  and 
' '  heaven. "  To  the  first  attaches  a  peculiar  charm. 
It  is  associated  with  all  the  early  years  of  childhood, 
with  all  the  numberless  little  acts  of  kindness  and 
love,  with  all  the  cares,  anxieties  and  unwearied 
watchings  of  the  domestic  household ;  no  earthly  tie 
or  bond  is  stronger  than  that  of  mother's  love, 
especially  if  it  be  that  of  a  Christian  mother's  love. 
It  stretches  and  weaves  its  silken  cords  around  the 
heart,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  and  awakens  a 
responsive  echo  in  the  heart  amid  all  the  cares  and 
perplexing  turmoils  of  life. 

' '  My  mother !  at  that  holy  name 
Within  my  bosom  there's  a  gush 
Of  feeling  which  no  time  can  tame, 
And  which  for  many  worlds  of  fame 
I  would  not,  could  not,  crush." 

There's  no  human  heart  so  incrusted  by  worldliness 
or  so  hardened  by  sin  and  crime  as  not  to  feel  the 
thrilling  power  of  that  word  "mother."     Were  you 
63 


64  The  Author's  Mother. 

to  speak  to  the  poor,  hardened  criminal,  bound  by 
his  chains  in  his  lonely  dungeon,  of  that  sainted 
mother  who  once  taught  him  to  pray  and  say,  "  Our 
Father,  which  art  in  heaven,"  you  would  find  that 
even  he  had  a  place,  down  deep  in  his  heart,  conse- 
crated to  a  mother's  memory.  He  would  doubtless 
bow  in  contrition,  and  tears  would  flow  down  his 
haggard  face,  as  you  carried  back  his  thoughts  to  the 
days  of  his  childhood,  when  he  once  laid  his  innocent 
head  on  his  mother's  bosom.  If  we  look  back  over 
the  world's  history  we  shall  find  that  most  of  the 
great  and  good  names  and  characters  which  have 
adorned  the  world  and  the  Church  have  owed  a  vast 
deal  to  the  influence  of  good  mothers.  What  John 
Wesley  was  is  owing,  and  can  be  traced,  to  the  influ- 
ence and  power  of  a  Christian  mother's  teaching 
and  example.  John  Newton  also  received  his  train- 
ing and  Christian  instruction  at  the  hands  of  a 
good  mother;  and  though  he  was  afterward  led  astray 
and  often  surrounded  by  evil  influences,  yet  those 
early  maternal  counsels  prevailed  and  kept  him  ilk 
the  right  path.  Listen  to  the  following  testimony 
from  another  :  "  When  I  was  a  child,"  he  writes, 
"  my  mother  used  to  bid  me  kneel  beside  her,  and 
place  her  hand  upon  my  head  while  she  prayed. 
Before  I  was  old  enough  to  know  her  worth  she  died, 


The  Author's  Mother.  65 

and  I  was  left  too  much  to  my  own  guidance.  In  the 
midst  of  temptations,  whether  at  home  or  abroad,  I 
have  felt  myself  again  and  again  irresistibly  drawn 
back  by  the  pressure  of  that  same  soft  hand,  and  a 
voice  in  my  heart  seemed  to  say,  "  Oh  !  do  not  this 
wickedness,  my  child,  nor  sin  against  God."  Such 
is  the  power  and  influence  of  a  Christian  mother. 
We  all  respond  to  those  beautiful  lines  of  a  world- 
wide fame  : 

"  'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces  though  we  may  roaip, 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home; 
A  charm  from  the  sky  seems  to  hallow  us  there, 
Which,  seek  through  the  world,  is  ne'er  met  with  elsewhere." 

But  what  is  home  without  a  mother  ?  It  is  a  tree 
without  leaves,  a  hearthstone  without  any  fire,  a 
night  without  the  placid  radiance  of  the  moonbeams. 
I  have  introduced  the  foregoing  thoughts  by  way  of 
prelude  to  the  following  picture  here  given  from 
memory's  portrait  gallery — that  of  my  mother.  She 
was  born  on  January  4th,  1799,  in  New  York  city, 
and  was  the  daughter  of  George  James  Warner,  a 
jeweler  by  trade,  and  also  a  man  of  taste  and  educa- 
tion. His  residence  was  a  small,  neat  cottage,  and 
stood  on  the  Bowery,  not  far  from  Bleecker  Street, 
while  that  of  his  father,  George  Warner,  stood  a  lit- 


66  The  Author's  Mother, 

tie  further  up,  on  what  is  now  the  corner  of  Bowery 
and  Fourth  Street.  These  then  were  country-seats 
of  men  doing  business  down-town,  below  what  is  now 
called  Canal  Street,  which  was  then  the  outer  limit 
of  the  city.  Her  mother  was  a  daughter  of  Elias 
Nexsen,  one  of  the  old,  most  respected  merchants  of 
New  York  city,  who  was  first  Collector  of  the  Port, 
and  a  prominent  leader  in  the  Dutch  Church.  She 
was  thus  brought  up  under  the  eyes  of  Christian 
parents,  and  early  taught  the  truths  of  our  holy 
religion.  The  family  consisted  of  two  sisters  and  a 
brother,  all  united  by  the  tender  ties  of  family  affec- 
tion. The  unbroken  union,  however,  was  but  of 
short  continuance,  for  at  the  early  age  of  seven  years 
her  father  died,  and  she  was  left  in  the  care  of  the 
widowed  mother.  Her  character  was  shaped  and 
molded,  to  a  great  extent,  through  her  grandfather, 
George  Warner,  who  owned  the  famous  "old  sail 
loft,"  in  William  Street,  New  York,  in  which  the 
British  pressed  him  to  make  sails  for  the  English 
ships  during  the  war  of  the  Revolution;  but  he  would 
not.  He  was  also  an  eminently  devoted  and  religious 
character.  Of  the  other  members  of  the  family,  her 
sister  married  Thomas  Murphy,  of  New  York,  and 
died,  leaving  several  children,  one  of  whom,  John 
McLeod  Murphy,  was  State  Senator  from  New  York. 


The  Author's  Mother.  67 

His  brother,  the  late  Effingham  H.  Warner,  was  a 
prominent  public  man,  and  while  a  member  of  the 
Common  Council  of  the  city,  he  projected  and  was 
instrumental  in  carrying  through  the  establishment 
of  Union  Park,  and  other  city  improvements.  He 
was  the  founder  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Church,  and 
his  grandfather's  coat-of-arms  stood  over  the  door  of 
entrance  to  the  first  church  built  in  Lafayette  Place. 
He  married  a  sister  of  the  celebrated  Methodist 
preacher,  John  Summerfield,  a  woman  of  great  per- 
sonal charms  and  highly  cultivated  intellect,  who 
possessed  many  of  the  tender  qualities,  and  religious 
and  lovely  traits  of  her  illustrious  brother.  She  died 
March  13th,  1878,  leaving  an  interesting  family. 
One  of  her  daughters  married  the  Rev.  A.  McLean, 
a  minister  doing  active  and  useful  service  in  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church.  Soon  after  my 
mother's  marriage,  a  new  field  of  duty  and  labor 
opened  before  her,  as  she  moved  soon  after  that 
event  to  the  village  of  Bedford,  in  the  State  of  New 
York,  where  my  father  became  rector  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church,  and  continued  there  in  the  faithful 
discharge  of  ministerial  duties  for  the  space  of 
twenty-two  years.  I  scarcely  dare  trust  myself  to 
speak  of  that  beautiful,  sweet  and  holy  life  which 
my  mother  led  during  all  those  years — how  faithful 


68  The  Author's  Mother. 

and  true  she  was,  a  help-meet  to  her  husband,  sharing" 
with  him  all  the  trials  and  disappointments  which  fall 
to  a  minister's  lot,  faithfully  training  and  instruct- 
ing her  household  and  family  in  the  principles 
of  our  holy  religion,  setting  them  a  pure  example, 
molding  their  Christian  characters,  watching  over 
them  in  sickness,  and  soothing  them  with  words  of 
kindness  and  love,  and  ever  acting  toward  her  fam- 
ily the  part  of  a  true  Christian  mother — a  mother 
whose  memory  will  be  sweet  and  precious  to  her 
children  all  the  coming  years.  Not  only  was  she 
faithful  and  true  as  a  wife  and  mother,  but  faithful 
as  a  follower  of  Christ,  and  co-worker  with  Him  in 
labors  of  love;  being  intimately  associated  in  many 
noble  deeds  of  charity  and  works  of  Christian  benev- 
olence with  such  eminent  and  pure  women  as  Mrs. 
Banyer,  and  Miss  Ann  Jay,  Mrs.  Judge  William  Jay, 
and  others,  belonging  to  the  parish  of  Bedford.  Oh! 
how  often,  as  I  have  since  journeyed  along  life's 
toilsome  road,  in  sunshine  and  storm,  does  mem- 
ory recall  the  modest,  quiet  little  parsonage  where 
my  childhood  was  spent.  It  was  the  scene  of 
many  childish  sports.  There  I  often  strolled  by 
moonlight,  through  the  apple  orchard,  and  plucked 
the  delicious  fruit  from  the  trees,  or  went  down  the 
lane  to  the  river's  bank  to  angle  for  perch  and  sunfish, 


The  Author's  Mother.  69 

or  sat  with  my  book  on  the  moss-covered  rock  at  the 
base  of  an  old  mountain  which  still  bore  its  Indian 
name,  "  Aspetong,"  which  always  looked  interest- 
ing, whether  dressed  in  the  light  verdure  of  the  bud- 
ding year,  or  draped  in  the  thick  green  of  ripe 
Summer,  or  gorgeous  with  Autumn's  golden  hues,  or 
Winter's  snowy  robe  of  white.  I  often  now  imagine 
myself  standing  beneath  that  mountain,  beside  the 
familiar  stream  which  ran  along  its  base,  meander- 
ing among  green  bushes  and  trees,  and  rich  meadows, 
with  the  dear  old  parsonage  in  the  distance,  and  just 
a  little  beyond  it  the  church,  with  its  towers  and 
cupola  peering  through  the  forest  trees,  surrounded 
with  its  burying-ground — an  omnipresent  witness  of 
human  mortality — its  marble  monuments  telling  the 
same  story  amid  Summer  and  Winter,  by  sunlight 
and  by  starlight,  and  its  flowers  blooming  there, 
emblematic  of  a  life  to  come.  Amid  all  the  remem- 
brances of  childhood  and  that  home  in  the  parson- 
age, I  can  recall  none  so  interesting  as  the  picture 
engraven  on  my  heart  of  that  mother  who  once  lived 
there,  moved  round  with  her  pleasant  look  and  smile 
amid  the  family  group,  lived  there  the  life  of  faith 
and  prayer,  knelt  morning  and  evening  at  the  family 
altar,  joining  in  the  devotions  after  the  chapter  was 
read  in  the  Bible,  and  lifting  her  voice  in  one  of  two 


70  The  Author's  Mother. 

sacred  hymns  which  were  sung  at  the  family  altar 
for  half  a  century;  the  one  commencing  with  the 

words : 

"  The  day  is  past  and  gone, 
The  evening  shades  appear, 
Oh  !  may  we  all  remember  well 
The  night  of  death  draws  near." 

The  other : 

"Blessed  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love, 
The  fellowship  of  kindred  minds 
Is  like  to  that  above." 

About  the  year  1841  my  father's  health  became 
impaired,  so  that  he  was  obliged  to  procure  assist- 
ance in  his  clerical  duties,  and  the  Rev.  A.  H.  Part- 
ridge was  appointed  to  fill  that  position.  Soon  after, 
my  father  resigned  the  rectorship  of  St.  Matthew's, 
Bedford.  Mr.  Partridge  was  called  to  succeed  him, 
and  remained  in  charge  of  that  church  for  a  period 
of  sixteen  years.  After  a  useful  pastorate  in  build- 
ing up  the  church  and  organizing  some  new 
churches  in  the  county,  Mr.  Partridge  received  and 
accepted  a  call  to  Christ  Church,  Williamsburg.  L.  I. 
Here  he  was  a  devoted  and  most  successful  minister. 
The  large  and  elegant  church  on  Bedford  Avenue 
was  built  through  his  instrumentality,  and,  after  a 
career  of  great  usefulness  and  success,  he  died,  much 


The  Author's  Mother.  71 

lamented  by  his  people.  After  leaving  Bedford, 
about  the  year  1841,  my  mother  spent  the  remaining 
years  of  her  life  at  Greenfield  Hill,  Conn. ,  the  home 
of  her  husband's  ancestors.  Here  the  family  had  a 
Summer  residence,  and  often  spent  their  Winters 
either  in  ISTew  York  city  or  in  Brooklyn.  During  the 
years  spent  at  Greenfield  she  always  exhibited  the 
same  loving  tenderness  and  regard  for  her  family, 
the  same  faithful  devotion  to  household  duties; 
much  of  her  leisure  time  was  spent  either  in  reading 
good  books  or  the  cultivation  of  flowers  and  plants, 
of  which  she  was  passionately  fond.  The  roses  and 
flowering  shrubs  which  adorned  the  pathways  of  her 
charming  home  were  planted  by  her  hands.  The 
Winter  of  1872,  which  was  the  last  Winter  of  my 
mother's  earthly  sojourn,  was  spent  at  her  city  home 
on  Lafayette  Avenue,  Brooklyn.  Everything  which 
loving  children  and  kind  friends  could  suggest  was 
done  to  add  to  her  comfort  and  prolong  her  life,  but 
it  was  evident  that  she  was  declining  in  health;  she 
had  lost  that  bright  eye  and  sprightliness  of  manner 
which  belonged  to  her;  her  bodily  illness  assumed 
constantly  a  more  discouraging  aspect,  until,  at 
length,  in  the  stormy,  dreary  month  of  March,  not- 
withstanding all  the  advice  and  best  skill  of  two  able 
physicians,    she    fell    asleep    with    hands    clasped 


72  The  Author's  Mother. 

together  as  if  in  the  attitude  of  prayer  and  resigna- 
tion.    Ah !  it  was  a  sad  and    dreary  hour  in  that 
Lafayette  Avenue  home  when  my  mother  closed  her 
eyes  and  we  were    left  alone  without  a   mother. 
Without  a  mother!    Oh,  what  a  chasm!  how  diffi- 
cult to  fill !  what  a  separation  of  a  most  tender  tie  ! 
What  can  we  do  in  such  an  hour  of  bereavement  but 
strive  with    faith's  discerning  eye  to  look   above, 
beyond.     There  is,  blessed  be  God,  a  silver  lining  to 
the  dark,  overhanging  clouds — a  heaven  on  the  other 
side — a  home  where   partings  are  not  known,  and 
where  the  scattered  members  of  the  household  may 
be  gathered  at  last  in  one  eternal  communion  and 
fellowship. 


a 


Oh  !  sweet  and  blessed  country, 

The  home  of  God's  elect ! 
Oh  !  sweet  and  blessed  country, 

Which  eager  hearts  expect ! 
Jesus,  in  mercy  bring  us 

To  that  dear  land  of  rest, 
Who  art,  with  God  the  Father 

And  Spirit,  ever  blessed." 


IX. 


In  a  previous  letter,  I  remarked,  that,  in  view  of 
the  retrospect  of  life,  one  thought,  which  impressed 
itself  with  much  force  upon  my  mind,  was,  the  very 
great  and  growing  importance  of  the  Bible.  As  this 
subject  has  elicited  more  than  usual  attention  of  late, 
especially  since  the  publication  of  Rev.  Heber  New- 
ton's sermons  on  "  The  Right  and  Wrong  Uses  of 
the  Bible,"  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  devote  this  present 
letter  to  a  few  thoughts  upon  this  most  important 
subject.  And  the  first  thought  that  strikes  us,  as 
we  enter  upon  the  subject,  is  this,  viz. :  that  there 
can  be  nothing  more  self-evident  than  the  absolute 
necessity  of  a  divine  revelation,  to  an  intelligent  and 
immortal  being  like  man,  to  teach  him  the  correct 
knowledge  of  God,  and  of  human  duty  and  destiny  ? 
What  am  I  ?  What  is  my  destiny  ?  How  am  I  re- 
lated to  God  and  the  rest  of  the  universe  ?  These 
are  questions  which  must  arise  in  every  thoughtful 
mind,  and  in  order  to  be  answered  intelligibly  and 
correctly,  require  a  revelation  from  the  Creator  and 
Author  of  our  being.  Nature  is  silent,  the  light  of 
73 


74  The  Holy  Bible. 

reason  and  conscience  within  us  gives  but  Slight  inti- 
mations of  the  future  and  our  immortality.  Unless 
God  teach  us  the  things  of  God  and  the  future  condi- 
tion of  our  race,  we  can  know  little  upon  these  sub- 
jects. If  the  fact  that  we  are  immortal  be  not 
revealed  to  us,  by  a  Being  who  knows  and  who 
cannot  lie,  then  we  are  in  darkness ;  then  we  float 
anxiously  on  a  sea  of  doubt  and  uncertainty,  and 
descend  at  last  into  the  shades  of  an  endless  night. 
But  blessed  be  God  !  we  have  such  a  revelation, 
telling  of  the  great  future;  telling  us  of  God,  our 
Father  and  Creator,  and  our  relations  to  Him  and 
the  universe;  telling  us  of  the  gradual  unfolding 
and  development  of  the  great  scheme  of  human 
redemption  through  a  Divine  Saviour.  It  contains 
God's  revealed  will  to  us.  It  speaks  to  us  on  its  every 
page,  telling  us  how  we  may  escape  the  guilt  and 
misery  of  sin  and  be  restored  to  the  divine  favor  and 
immortal  happiness  in  the  life  to  come.  But  another 
thought  arises.  By  what  evidence  is  this  revelation 
upheld  and  sustained  ?    To  this  we  reply: 

1.  It  is  sustained  by  the  evidence  of  miracles,  that 
is,  supernatural  exhibitions  of  divine  power — such, 
for  example,  as  the  raising  of  the  dead  to  life, 
the  healing  of  bodily  diseases  by  a  single  word, 
the  creation  of  food  miraculously,  like  manna,  for  the 


The  Holy  Bible.  75 

Israelites,  the  opening  of  the  solid  rock,  causing  the 
waters  to  flow  and  thus  quenching  their  thirst.  All 
these  were  acts  of  Divinity,  and  were  actually  true. 
Do  you  suppose  that  Moses  could  have  persuaded 
half  a  million  of  people  that  they  were  fed  by  a 
miraculous  power  from  the  clouds,  or  that  the  water 
actually  gushed  out  from  the  rock,  if  it  were  not 
actually  so  ? 

Jesus  stilled  the  raging  tempest.  He  raised  the 
dead  Lazarus  from  the  grave.  He  put  his  hand  on 
the  bier  and  the  only  son  of  the  widow  of  Nam  rose 
to  life  at  His  bidding.  Think  you  that  Lazarus's 
sisters  and  the  multitude  of  Jews  there  assembled, 
could  have  been  made  to  believe  that  Lazarus 
actually  came  forth  alive  from  the  sepulchre,  if  he 
did  not  ?    But  again  : 

2.  This  Divine  Book  is  sustained  by  the  evidence 
of  prophecy. 

The  prophets  of  the  Old  Testament  foretold  events 
that  should  happen  hundreds  of  years  afterward, 
with  the  utmost  minuteness  and  particularity;  such 
as  the  coming  of  Christ,  the  time,  place,  mode  and 
manner  of  His  birth,  also  the  circumstances  of  His 
death.  The  prophets  also  foretold  the  overthrow  and 
destruction  of  Tyre,  Nineveh,  Jerusalem,  the  fall 
and  dispersion  of   the    Jews.     Now,    as    no    mere 


76  The  Holy  Bible. 

human  foresight  could  look  thousands  of  ages  ahead 
and  tell  what  was  to  happen,  there  can  be  but  one 
conclusion,  and  that  is,  that  the  Bible  is  divine.  You 
have  only  to  compare  ancient  prophecy  with  modern 
history  to  be  convinced  of  this.     But 

3.  There  is  one  more  evidence  of  which  we  will 
speak,  namely  the  experimental  one;  and  this  is, 
perhaps,  the  strongest  and  the  best,  for  the  truth  of 
the  Bible.  "Whoever  studies  that  Divine  Book  with 
faith  and  prayer,  and  an  earnest  desire  and  wish  to 
be  enlightened  and  saved  by  its  truth,  will  be  con- 
vinced that  it  is  divine.  He  will  have  such  a  convic- 
tion that  it  is  from  above,  as  no  cunning  syllogisms 
of  infidels  or  skeptics  will  be  able  to  shake  or  laugh 
out  of  him.  There  is  many  a  poor,  unlettered  and 
humble  individual  who  possesses  this  internal  evi- 
dence of  the  truth  of  God.  lie  has  never  read  any 
book  on  evidence;  he  has  never  heard  of  Paley,  or 
Butler,  or  Chalmers;  he  knows  nothing,  it  may  be, 
of  what  learned  divines  and  great  philosophers  have 
written  on  these  subjects;  and  yet,  he  has  in  his  own 
heart,  a  most  eloquent  and  a  ceaseless  witness,  that 
the  Bible  is  God's  book,  and  inspired  by  His  divine 
Spirit.  He  was  once  a  sinner,  now  his  heart  is 
changed  by  the  grace  of  God.  He  was  once  sad  and 
miserable,  now  he  rejoices  in  God.     He  has  believed 


The  Holy  Bible.  77 

and  trusted  in  the  promises  of  that  Divine  Book,  and 
they  have  comforted  him  and  given  him  hope.     He 
has  obeyed  those  divine  counsels,  and  his  footsteps 
have  been  enlightened.     Now  this  is  a  species  of 
evidence  the  very  strongest  and  best.     It  cannot  be 
overturned,    and    is    capable    of    withstanding    all 
assaults.     Such  a  person  feels   within   himself    the 
transforming  power  of  the  Gospel,  and  knows  by  a 
consciousness  within  him,  surer  than  argument,  and 
clearer  than  logic,  that  he  believes  on  the  Son  of 
God,  and  that  the  religion  he  professes  is  inspired  of 
God.     And,  furthermore,  we  may  remark  that  this 
Divine  Book  of  God,  which  comes  to  us  sustained 
and  upheld  by  such  a  weight  of  testimony,  is  God's 
greatest  and  best  gift  to  man,  for  it  is  infallibly 
true.     Now  this  is  just  what  we  all  need,  an  infal- 
lible guide  to  life  eternal.      Either  it  is  infallible  or 
it  is  nothing.     If  it  has   God  for  its  Author,  and 
comes  from  Him,  then  it  is  infallible.     And  here  lies 
one  of  the  chief  characteristics  of  the  vast  superiority 
and  importance  of  the  Bible. 

When  the  Romanist  says  to  me:  "  We  are  the 
oldest  Church,  and  the  only  Church;  you  should 
receive  the  Bible  as  we  interpret  it,"  I  beg  leave  to 
reply:  "  You  are  not  the  oldest  Church,  nor  the  only 
Church.     There  is  the  Greek  Church,  from  which 


78  The  Holy  Bible. 

you  separated,  and  there  is  the  Anglo-Saxon  Church, 
in  England,   which  existed  there  before  a  popish 
monk  or  priest  ever  came  there.     Besides,  you  taach 
false  dogmas,   heresies  and  superstitions,  such  as 
transubstantiation,  priestly  absolution,  clerical  celib- 
acy, the  adoration  of  the  Virgin  Mary,   of  saints 
and  images — all  of  which  receive  no  countenance  in 
God's  Word.     ISTo,  I  want  no  such  error  and  super- 
stition.     Give  us  the    Bible    pure,    unadulterated, 
divine,  infallible. "    I  stick  to  that  from  Genesis  to 
Revelation.     It  is  God's  greatest  and  best  gift  to 
man.   It  is  the  anchorage-ground  of  all  our  Churches, 
and  by  it  they  stand  or  fall.     That  Church  which  is 
nearest  to  and  most  conformed  to  its  divine  sanctions 
will  assuredly  triumph  in  the  end.     Let  us  keep  the 
Bible  in  our  churches,  our  homes,  our  public  schools. 
Let  us  remember  that  the  welfare  of  this  free  and 
glorious  republic  of  ours  is  closely  bound  up  with 
the  Bible.     All  its  civil  institutions  and  its  govern- 
ment are  founded  on  it.     Without  its  divine  sanc- 
tions,  no  civil  government,   no  courts  of   justice, 
could  exist.     Most  opportune  and  proper  was  that 
late  commemoration  of  the  birth  of  Martin  Luther, 
who  exposed  the  dismal  darkness  of  papal  Rome, 
and  restored  the  lost  treasure  of  the  sacred  Scrip- 
tures; for  out  of  that  Divine  Book  have  come  the 


The  Holy  Bible.  79 

mighty  influences  which  have  made  this  country 
what  it  is  to-day.  God  be  thanked  for  the  glo- 
rious work  which  this  great  man  has  wrought. 
Far  distant  be  that  dreadful  day  when  this  land  of 
ours,  which  our  forefathers  founded  in  tears  and 
blood  on  the  broad  foundations  of  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  shall  lose  its  hold  on  the  Bible.  For  if  we 
lose  our  hold  on  that,  then  all  is  lost. 


X. 


In  the  following  letter  it  will  be  my  aim  to  present 
some  brief  recollections  of  a  Summer  vacation  in 
the  beautiful  town,  or  rather,  I  should  say,  capital 
city,  of  the  State  of  Vermont,  Montpelier ;  and  also 
to  give  some  reminiscences  of  a  similar  period  passed, 
in  the  Summer  of  1876,  at  Great  Barrington,  Mass., 
amidst  the  striking  scenery  of  the  Berkshire  hills. 
These  are  both  spots  of  surpassing  interest,  and 
a  Summer  sojourn  in  either  place  cannot  soon  be 
forgotten. 

First.— It  was  in  the  month  of  July,  in  the  year 
1874,  that  I  set  out  in  company  with  my  wife,  for 
the  first-named  place,  Montpelier,  Vt.  The  streets 
of  the  city  of  Brooklyn  were  hot,  dry  and  dusty,  for 
the  burning  rays  of  the  sun  beat  down  with  great 
force  on  the  stone  pavement  making  the  air  oppres- 
sive and  stifling ;  and  we  were  glad  to  escape  from 
the  heat  and  dust  of  the  city,  and  exchange  them  for 
the  cooling  and  invigorating  breezes  of  Long  Island 
80 


A  Summer   Vacation.  81 

Sound.     It  was  a  delightful  change,  as  we  sat  on  the 
steamer's  deck  viewing  the  various  objects  of  inter- 
est along  the  shore ;  now  catching  a  glimpse  of  the 
buildings  on  Black  well's  Island,  and  of  the  rough 
waters  of  Hell  Gate,  and  now  taking  a  view  of  Fort 
Schuyler,  Sand's-Point  Light,  and  the  towns,  with 
their  church-spires,  which  line  the  coast  of  Connecti- 
cut.    A  few  hours  brought  us  to  the  City  of  Bridge- 
port,  where  we  took  the  cars   for  Hartford.     We 
spent  one  night  in  this  thriving  and  attractive  city 
— noted  for  its  fine  residences,   hospitable  homes, 
splendid  church  edifices  and  other  public  buildings, 
and  its  Trinity  College— and  then  proceeded,  next 
morning,  by  the  cars  of  the  Hartford  and  Springfield 
and  Vermont  Central  Railroad,  to  the  little  romantic 
village  of  Bellows  Falls.    We  were  so  much  charmed 
with  this  place  that  we  concluded  to  tarry  here  for  a 
week  or  ten  days.     The  scenery  here  is  wild  and 
striking  to  a  remarkable  degree.     The  Falls  tumble 
in  wild  confusion  over  the  huge  massive  rocks  which 
lie  embedded  in  the  river.     You  look  up  from  the 
street  below,   and  gaze  in  wonder    at  the    rough, 
cragged  steeps  and  rocky  ledges  which  intervene 
between  you  and  the  embankment  above,  on  which 
some  of  the  dwellings  stand.     The  beautiful  Gothic 
Episcopal  church,  in  which  Bishop   Carlton  Chase 


82  A  Summer    Vacation. 

preached  many  years,  stands  on  one  of  the  heights 
just  mentioned,  surrounded  by  a  grove  of  pines.  I 
preached  in  it,  by  the  kindly  request  of  the  rector, 
on  the  Sunday  following.  We  formed  some  very 
pleasant  acquaintances  during  our  stay  at  the  neat 
and  comfortable  hotel,  with  whom  we  parted  reluc- 
tantly, and  proceeded  to  the  place  of  our  destination, 
Montpelier.  This  is  a  most  beautiful  and  attractive 
city,  containing  about  12,000  inhabitants.  Its  build- 
ings are,  many  of  them,  of  a  most  substantial  char- 
acter, built  of  gray  granite.  The  Episcopal  church, 
of  which  the  Rev.  Dr.  Hull  was  the  rector,  is  a  very 
handsome  and  tasteful  granite  structure.  The  Con- 
gregational Church  is  much  the  largest  edifice,  hav- 
ing four  towers,  and  consuming,  it  is  said  something 
like  a  ton  of  coal  every  Sunday.  Of  all  the  public 
buildings,  however,  which  adorn  the  city,  none  can 
compare  in  point  of  beauty  and  impressiveness — none 
is  so  chaste  and  elegant  as  the  State  House,  built  of 
the  purest  white  marble.  It  stands  at  the  head  of  a 
spacious  green  lawn,  contains  the  Public  Armory, 
the  Hall,  sumptuously  furnished,  for  the  House  of 
Representatives  and  State  Senate,  Public  Library,  etc. 
We  took  up  our  abode  at  the  American  House, 
being  most  kindly  cared  for  by  the  excellent  proprie- 
tor and  his  wife.     Here  we  found  some  very  agree- 


A  Summer    Vacation.  83 

uble  and  excellent  society.  Among  other-,,  an  Epis- 
copal clergyman,  and  his  lady  and  young  daugnter, 
who  had  come  from  Brooklyn,  and  finding  that  they 
could  live  here  with  every  comfort  at  about  one-third 
the  expense,  they  had  made  it  their  permanent  home. 
We  took  frequent  excursions  together  around  the 
city,  and  climbed  the  tall  mountains  which  surround 
it,  from  which  you  can  see  in  the  distance  the  rugged 
sides  and  majestic  peak  of  Mount  Mansfield.  We 
were  often  brought  together,  as  the  doors  of  the 
rooms  of  guests  opened  out  upon  the  second-story 
piazza,  where  we  sat  for  hours  conversing  and  look- 
ing out  upon  the  street,  enlivened  with  gay  equip- 
ages. Thus  passed  away  the  weeks  of  our  Summer 
vacation,  between  books  and  rambles  and  kind, 
pleasant  intercourse  of  new-made  friends,  until,  at 
last  we  bade  adieu  to  familiar  faces  and  started  back 
with  our  own  horse  and  carriage,  just  purchased  for 
the  occasion — a  journey  of  more  than  four  hundred 
miles  through  the  many  villages  and  towns  which  lie 
along  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut  River,  and 
through  the  States  of  Vermont,  Massachusetts  and 
Connecticut.  That  was  a  long,  delightful  and  most 
health-giving  journey  from  the  mountains  of  Ver- 
mont to  our  home  in  Brooklyn,  and  we  never  for- 
got it. 


84  A  Summer   Vacation. 

Second. — Let  us  now  proceed  to  give  our  readers 
.some  brief  sketches  of  a  second  Summer  vaca- 
tion spent  by  us  in  the  town  of  Great  Barrington, 
Mass.  Of  all  the  towns,  I  ever  visited,  I  must  say 
I  never  saw  one  which  strikes  the  eye  so  pleasantly 
as  this.  Its  wide  main  avenue  is  lined  with  many 
superb  residences,  and  is  overshadowed  with  the 
\tall,  graceful  elms  which  constitute  the  pride  and 
-ornament  of  New  England  villages.  A  little  way  off 
from  the  avenue  is  the  Collins  House,  with  its  cot- 
tages for  guests,  than  which  it  would  be  difficult  to 
find  a  more  comfortable  and  pleasant  home  for  trav- 
elers. Here  we  made  our  abode  and  enjoyed  the 
society  of  some  very  pleasant  companions,  guests  of 
the  house  from  the  City  of  New  York.  Among 
others,  we  received  one  day  a  very  pleasant  visit 
from  Miss  Kellogg,  then  the  sole  occupant  of  the 
Sherwood  mansion,  who  extended  to  us  a  polite 
invitation  to  take  tea  at  her  house.  We  did  so,  and 
were  most  agreeably  entertained  by  her  polite  and 
intelligent  conversation.  I  felt  a  peculiar  interest  in 
visiting  this  house,  as  I  had  often  heard  my  father 
speak  of  Mr.  Sherwood  and  his  successful  and 
remarkable  history.  He  was  born  in  the  same  town 
with  my  father,  in  a  very  humble  dwelling,  and 
started  forth  to  carve  his  fortune,  with  little  or  no 


A  Summer   Vacation. 

means  and  little  prospect  of  success.  Being  nat- 
urally fond  of  books,  he  applied  himself  with  great 
industry  to  the  study  of  the  English  branches,  as 
well  as  Latin  classics,  moved  to  the  City  of  New 
York  and  proceeded  to  establish  there  a  school  for 
the  education  of  young  men,  and  soon  became  known 
throughout  the  city  as  a  most  worthy  teacher  and 
instructor  of  youth.  After  a  successful  career  as 
a  public  teacher  and  scholar  for  many  years,  Mr. 
Sherwood  moved  from  the  city  to  Great  Barring- 
ton,  where  he  had  married  his  wife,  who,  with  her 
sisters,  had  conducted  there  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated female  schools  in  New  England.  Both  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Sherwood  were  ardent  promoters  of  educa- 
tion, and  we  may  almost  say  pioneers,  as  Mr.  Sher- 
wood's classical  school  was  one  of  the  earliest  insti- 
tutions in  the  City  of  New  York;  and  the  female 
school  also,  of  Great  Barrington,  dates  back  through 
a  period  of  many  years.  In  this  pleasant  mansion., 
which  I  might  almost  say  is  classical  ground,  Mr. 
Sherwood  brought  up  an  interesting  family,  among 
whom  were  two  engaging  and  accomplished  daugh- 
ters. One  of  them  married  a  Mr.  Chittendon,  of  St. 
Louis — a  successful  merchant,  a  man  of  large  means 
and  great  influence.  She  died  a  few  years  since 
while  travelling  abroad  for  health.    The  other  daugh- 


86  A  Summer   Vacation, 

ter  married  the  famous  railroad  manager,  Mark  Hop- 
kins, of  San  Francisco,  who  died  recently,  leaving 
an  estate  of  $10,000,000.  She  now  resides  in  the 
magnificent  residence  built  by  her  husband  previous 
to  his  death,  and  we  learn  from  the  papers,  more 
recently,  that  this  worthy  lady  has  borne  the  greater 
part  of  the  expense  of  erecting  a  new  and  elegant 
Congregational  church  on  the  site  of  the  old  one, 
burned  about  a  year  since. 

Knowing,  as  I  did,  all  these  facts  and  historic  inci- 
dents in  the  life  of  Mr.  Sherwood,  as  narrated  to  me 
by  my  father,  and  knowing,  too,  that  he  had  often 
spoken  with  great  interest  of  his  friend  as  a  play- 
mate and  school-companion,  I  could  not  but  feel  a 
deep  interest  in  the  old  mansion.  It  still  remains  as 
a  Summer  residence  of  Mrs.  Hopkins,  and  must  no 
doubt  be  highly  prized  by  her  as  the  home  of  her 
father  and  mother — rich  in  family  historical  associa- 
tions. I  shall  be  pardoned  in  this  connection  in  add- 
ing a  brief  description  of  this  beautiful  church,  so 
richly  endowed,  and  an  ornament  to  the  town.  It  is 
built  upon  the  site  of  the  former  edifice,  and  is 
trimmed  with  Portland  brown-stone.  Connected 
with  the  church  is  a  large  chapel,  having  the  usual 
parlors  and  libraries,  and  joined  by  a  long  stone  cor- 
ridor to  a  parsonage,  in  the  rear  of  which  is  a  fine 


A  Summer    Vacation.  8? 

"barn.  The  windows  are  of  the  best  design  in  stained 
and  painted  glass;  two  of  them  cost  $2,000.  The 
chandeliers  are  also  costly  and  beautiful ;  the  pulpit 
is  of  the  finest  mahogany,  and  the  organ  cost  $30,000. 
The  parsonage  is  a  two-story  house,  with  a  hand- 
some portico  and  arch ;  in  front  is  a  Dutch  door,  a 
large  hall  with  old  open  English  grates,  a  parlor,  a 
study,  opening  from  which  is  the  corridor  running 
to  the  chapel ;  also,  a  light  and  cheery  dining-room 
opening  to  the  east,  a  conservatory,  kitchen,  etc. 
The  entire  cost  of  all  the  buildings  is  estimated  at 
little  more  than  $102,000.  This  is,  indeed,  a  noble 
praiseworthy  offering  of  a  Christian  heart,  and  an 
example  worthy  of  imitation.  "Would  that  more 
could  be  found  to  do  as  much  for  the  Church  of  their 
affections.  I  have  often  since  looked  back  and 
thought  with  pleasure  of  that  Summer  visit  at  Great 
Barrington,  Mass. 


XI 


In  a  former  letter  I  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  the 
importance  of  the  Bible.  I  little  dreamed,  Mr.  Edi- 
tor, I  should  ever  live  to  see  the  day  when  a  man  of 
genius  and  intellectual  ability,  in  view  of  the  power- 
ful and  unanswerable  evidence  which  upholds  the 
Christian  religion,  as  set  forth  in  the  inspired  Word 
of  God,  could  so  belittle  himself,  and  prostitute  his 
noble  faculties,  as  to  employ  them  in  the  vain 
attempt  to  beleaguer  and  overthrow  the  Bible — 
God's  greatest  and  best  gift  to  man ;  the  book  which 
has  done  more  for  the  human  race  than  any  and  all 
other  books  put  together;  more  to  shape  the  legisla- 
tion, and  improve  the  morals,  and  develop  the  high- 
est style  of  civilization  in  man;  more  to  enlighten 
ignorance,  dispel  doubt  and  fear,  by  drawing  aside 
the  curtain  of  the  Eternal  World,  and  unveiling  the 
glories  of  Heaven,  shining  on  his  pathway  to  the 
grave ;  more  to  comfort  the  sorrowing  and  suffering 
and  give  trust  and  triumph  to  the  dying.  May  the 
good  Lord  deliver  us  from  any  such  base  and  ignoble 
mission  as  that  of  outraging  the  sense  and  Christian 

88 


The  Bible  and  the   Church.  89 

feeling  of  the  whole  civilized  world,  and  unhinging 
faith  in  the  existence  of  God  and  a  future  life  ;  for  I 
can  conceive  of  no  calamity  which  could  befall  this 
suffering  and  sorrowing  world  like  that  of  the  gen- 
eral loosening  and  destruction  of  men's  faith  in  the 
Bible.  To  seal  up  the  pages  of  God's  divine  book, 
and  quench  its  heavenly  light,  were  to  spread  dark- 
ness and  despair.  It  were  to  drape  the  earth  in 
mourning,  and  put  an  end  to  the  only  redemptive 
agency  of  the  human  race.  Take  away  everything 
else,  but  oh  !  take  not  the  divine  book  which  in  early 
years  was  so  often  read  to  us  by  saintly  lips  of  loved 
parents  now  sealed  in  the  silence  of  the  grave.  Take 
not  the  book  whose  very  words  have  a  familiar  and 
solemn  tone,  known  to  no  others ;  which  have  been 
preached  from  the  pulpit ;  which  have  been  repeated 
in  the  sanctuary,  at  the  bridal  and  the  burial ;  whose 
sentences  have  awakened  a  reverential  awe  and  fear 
in  our  hearts  ever  since  the  lisping  days  of  childhood, 
and  are  graven  on  the  tombstones  of  our  dead  whom 
we  hope  to  meet  again.     No  !  no  ! 

But,  there  is  another  thing,  also,  which  I  little 
dreamed  I  should  ever  live  to  see,  and  that  is,  any 
clergyman  criticising  the  Bible;  and,  instead  of 
receiving  it  as  an  authentic,  inspired  and  har- 
monious whole,  independent   of  reason  and  human 


90  The  Bible  and  the   Church. 

knowledge,  and  bowing  to  it  implicitly  as  of  divine 
authority,  presuming  to  cheapen  the  character  of 
its  inspiration,  and  so  detract  from  that  full  awe 
and  reverence  in  which  it  should  be  held,  turn- 
ing it  into  allegories,  and  stories,  and  national 
traditions,  instead  of  divine,  unalterable,  historic 
records,  and  thus  unsettling  the  faith  and  minds 
of  Christians,  and  disturbing  the  repose  of  the 
Church.  I  had  always,  Mr.  Editor,  supposed  that 
every  orthodox  Church  took  it  for  granted  that  the 
Scriptures  were  divine  and  authentic ;  and  the  busi- 
ness of  a  minister  was  to  preach  the  Gospel  and  the 
sacred  truths  of  God's  divine  word  as  there  laid 
down  and  inculcated,  not  to  exercise  his  puny  reason 
by  sitting  in  judgment  on  the  Bible  and  calling  in 
question  its  full  inspiration,  and  thus  seeking  to  be 
"wise  above  what  is  written."  It  seems  to  me  that 
time  is  too  valuable,  life  is  too  short,  and  eternity  is 
too  long,  for  any  minister  of  Christ  to  employ  his 
powers  and  his  pulpit  for  such  purposes,  rather  than 
In  preaching  "Christ,  and  Him  crucified,"  and  seek- 
ing to  save  the  souls  of  men. 

But  to  drop  the  subject  of  the  Bible,  upon  which 
our  thoughts  have  been  thus  far  occupied,  let  me 
bring  before  your  readers,  in  the  remainder  of 
this  letter,  another  important  subject — the  Church/ 


The  Bible  and  the   Church,  91 

and  when  I  speak  of  the  Church,  I  mean  to  be  under- 
stood as  embracing  within  it  the  whole  body  of 
Christ's  faithful,  believing  followers,  who  take  the 
Scriptures  for  their  guide  and  rule  of  faith  ;  who  are 
joined  by  faith  to  Christ,  the  living  head ;  who  live 
according  to  His  precepts,  and  partake  of  the  graces 

i 

of  His  heavenly  spirit. 

Such  constitute  a  vast  fold,  united  in  the  unity  of 
the  spirit,  and  in  the  bond  of  peace;  though  they 
may  assume  different  names,  and  be  separated  in 
outward  things  in  modes  of  organization  and  forms 
of  worship,  yet  they  all  agree  in  what  is  most  intrin- 
sically important :  the  depravity  of  man,  the  need 
and  efficacy  of  a  divine  atonement,  the  necessity  of 
repentance  and  faith,  the  need  of  a  divine  spirit,  and 
the  eternal  happiness  of  the  righteous. 

What  a  noble  band !  and  what  noble  works  are 
being  wrought  out  by  all  these  various  bodies  of 
Christians !  They  have  founded  our  political  and 
religious  institutions — our  schools,  and  colleges,  and 
churches.  They  are  the  safeguard  and  glory  of  the 
land.  By  their  teaching  and  their  example,  they 
have  purified  public  sentiment,  and  created  a  moral 
tone  in  society,  without  which  it  would  become  a 
sink  of  moral  pollution  and  a  den  of  thieves.  They 
have  visited  hospitals  and  prisons,  and  carried  the 


92  The  Bible  and  the    Church. 

consoling,  comforting  and  regenerating  influence  of 
the  religion  of  Christ  into  the  dark  homes  of  vice  and 
want.  They  have  upheld  the  Sabbath  and  the  sanc- 
tuary, and  kept  the  light  of  the  Gospel  burning  on 
the  watch-towers  of  Zion  to  guide  the  weary  and 
benighted  into  safety  and  peace.  They  have  carried 
the  Gospel's  light  to  pagan  shores,  and  kindled  up 
fires  under  the  sky  of  the  Equator,  and  amid  the 
snows  of  Greenland. 

I  pity  the  man  who  feels  no  sympathy  and  no  thrill 
of  spiritual  pleasure,  as  he  thinks  of  what  the  vast 
hosts  of  Protestant  Christendom  are  doing  for  our 
world.  I  have  little  sympathy  with  that  narrow  spirit 
of  sectarianism  which  never  looks  beyond  the  narrow 
boundaries  of  its  own  little  fold,  nor  extends  the 
hand  of  sympathy,  or  look  of  kindness,  toward  the 
great  Christian  brotherhood.  I  can  truly  say,  God 
bless  them,  and  prosper  them  in  their  noble  work. 
It  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  writer  to  be  trained  up 
and  ordained  a  minister  in  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church— an  honored  and  historic  Church— at  whose 
altars  have  ministered  such  men  as  Dr.  Francis  L. 
Hawks,  Dr.  Stephen  H.  Tyng,  Dr.  Milnor,  Dr.  Cut- 
ler; and  which  has  embraced  within  its  communion 
such  honored  and  worthy  laymen  as  Governor  John 
Jay,   George    Washington,   Henry    Clay,   Madison, 


The  Bible  and  the   Church,  93 

Monroe,  Arthur,  and  others.  Let  me  conclude  these 
thoughts  on  the  Church  by  barely  suggesting  some 
two  or  three  characteristics  which  to  the  mind  of 
the  writer  present  the  Episcopal  Church  in  a  favor- 
able aspect. 

1.  The  Episcopal  Church  is  a  Scriptural  Church. 
It  is  founded  on  the  infallible  teaching  of  the  Bible. 
It  says :  ' '  Holy  Scripture  containeth  all  things 
necessary  to  salvation,  so  that  whatsoever  is  not  read 
therein,  nor  may  be  proved  thereby,  is  not  to  be 
required  of  any  man  that  it  should  be  believed 
as  an  article  of  faith,  or  be  thought  requisite  or 
necessary  to  salvation.  In  the  name  of  the  Holy 
Scripture,  we  do  understand  those  canonical  books 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  of  whose  authority 
was  never  any  doubt  in  the  Church." 

2.  The  Episcopal  Church  is  also  an  Evangelical 
Church  ;  for  it  holds  that  we  are  saved,  not  by  good 
works,  or  penances,  but  through  the  merits  of  Christ. 
Listen  to  one  of  its  articles:  "They  also  are  to  be 
held  accursed  that  presume  to  say  that  every  man 
shall  be  saved  by  the  law  or  sect  which  he  profes- 
seth,  so  that  he  be  diligent  to  frame  his  life  accord- 
ing to  that  law  and  the  light  of  nature,  for  Holy 
Scripture  doth  set  out  unto  us,  only  the  name  of 
Jesus  Christ,  whereby  man  must  be  saved." 


94  The  Bible  and  the   Church. 

3.  The  Episcopal  Church  is  possessed  of  a  rich  and 
Scriptural  Liturgy— the  growth  of  ages.  It  contains 
the  most  sublime  devotions  and  saintly  prayers 
which  have  been  uttered  by  saints  and  martyrs  in  all 
ages,  and  which  have  called  forth  the  highest  enco- 
miums of  Christians  of  every  name.  This  feature 
of  the  Episcopal  Church  is  one  which  is  commending 
itself  more  and  more  in  the  eyes  of  the  Christian 
public  and  has  led  many,  outside  of  its  pale,  to  adopt 
some  form  of  liturgy  in  public  worship. 

4.  The  Episcopal  Church  is  also  a  more  liberal 
Church  than  many  others.  It  tolerates  within  its 
fold  many  schools  of  thought,  and  various  shades  of 
opinion,  and  has  grown,  at  least  within  the  writer's 
recollection,  far  more  tolerant  than  it  formerly  was 
of  the  opinions  and  faith  of  others. 

5.  The  Episcopal  Church  is  also  a  progressing 
Church.  Look  at  the  statistics,  as  presented  by  the 
late  General  Convention,  of  its  progress  within  the 
last  ten  years.  It  is  making  rapid  strides.  Its  mis- 
sions, at  home  and  abroad,  have  been  multiplied;  its 
dioceses,  enlarged ;  its  clergy  and  members,  vastly 
increased.  Its  institutions  have  grown  with  great 
rapidity.  It  is  well  adapted  to  all  classes  and  condi- 
tions, and  by  God's  blessing,  will  continue  to  make 
progress. 


XII. 


Since  I  last  had  the  pleasure  of  addressing  you,  it 
has  been  my  privilege  to  make  an  enjoyable  visit  of 
several  weeks  to  the  great  and  growing  City  of  New 
York,  which  now  ranks  first  and  foremost  of  all 
American  cities  in  art,  in  science,  in  material  and 
religious  progress;  in  the  grandeur  and  elegance  of 
her  public  and  private  edifices;  in  the  beauty  and 
splendor  of  her  churches,  and  in  her  many  noble 
monuments  of  Christian  charity.  New  York,  it 
must  be  admitted,  now  stands  on  a  proud  pre-emi- 
nence. To  one  looking  back  over  a  period  of  fifty 
years,  the  changes  wrought  by  the  hand  of  time  seem 
marvelous  indeed.  I  can  remember  when  New  York 
was  but  an  inconsiderable  place,  and  Brooklyn  a 
small  village.  The  chief  means  of  travel  then  was 
by  an  old-fashioned  stage-coach,  from  Westchester 
County  down  through  what  was  then  and  is  now 
called  "  The  Bowery,"  which  carried  the  mail  and 
passengers.  No  cars  and  steamboats.  Now,  what  a 
95 


96  New  York;    its  Growth,  etc, 

contrast,  in  the  crowds  of  palatial  steamboats  and 
of  steam-cars  which  daily  bring  their  crowds  of 
visitors  to  the  city.  I  am  now  safely  and  comfortably 
lodged  near  Madison  Avenue,  a  few  blocks  above 
"  The  Grand  Central  Depot,"  where  there  formerly 
stood  open,  barren  fields  comparatively  worthless. 
A  few  moments'  walk  leads  me  out  to  Madison  and 
Fifth  Avenues,  both  of  which  are  lined  with  costly 
and  imposing  private  dwellings  and  churches,  which 
cannot  be  surpassed  for  elegance  and  grandeur  in 
their  style  of  architecture.  A  few  Sundays  ago  we 
walked  a  short  distance  down  Madison  Avenue,  and 
attended  divine  service  in  St.  Bartholomew's  Church, 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Samuel  Cooke,  pastor.  This  church  is 
quite  a  beautiful  edifice.  The  ceilings  and  walls  are 
finely  frescoed.  A  row  of  exquisitely  wrought 
colored  marble  pillars  runs  through  the  church  on 
either  side  of  the  middle  aisle.  The  side  and  altar 
windows,  covered  with  Scripture  scenes,  adorn  the 
edifice.  I  was  particularly  drawn  to  this  church,  as 
I  had  never  seen  the  interior,  and  was  anxious  to  hear 
the  rector  preach,  who  was  an  old  and  long-tried 
friend  of  mine.  We  were  fellow-students  in  the 
Theological  Seminary  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in 
this  city  as  long  ago  as  1837  and  1838.  Dr.  Cooke  is 
a  man  of  rare  pulpit  talents,  and  his  career  has  been 


New  York:   its  Growth,  etc,  97 

a  most  successful  and  useful  one.  Starting  out  from 
the  seminary,  he  began  his  ministerial  labors  in  a 
missionary  parish  in  the  town  of  Lyons,  Western 
New  York,  where  he  was  instrumental  in  gathering 
a  congregation  and  building  a  neat  and  tasteful 
church;  from  thence  he  was  called  to  the  church  at 
Geneva.  From  Geneva  he  received  a  call  to  the 
Parish  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  New  Haven,  Conn. 
This  was  a  field  peculiarly  adapted  to  a  minister 
possessing  his  fine  imaginative  and  descriptive 
talents,  and  attractive  oratory.  He  soon  became 
very  popular.  His  church  was  largely  frequented  by 
students,  and  rich  spiritual  blessings  attended  his 
labors.  From  New  Haven,  he  received  a  call  to  St. 
Bartholomew's  Church,  and  devoted  his  time  and 
faithful  labors  to  the  spiritual  welfare  of  this  church, 
which  stood  for  many  years  on  the  corner  of  Lafay- 
ette Place  and  Great  Jones  Street  but  was  subse- 
quently abandoned  for  the  present  church,  standing 
on  the  corner  of  Madison  Avenue  and  Forty-Third 
Street.  Few  men  have  maintained  for  so  many 
years  such  a  faithful  and  useful  record  as  Dr. 
Cooke. 

It  has  been  our  privilege,  likewise,  on  one  or  two 
occasions,  to  attend  the  services  on  Sunday  at  St. 


98  New  York:   its  Growth,  etc, 

Thomas's  Church,  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and  Fifty- 
third  Street.  This  splendid  and  imposing  church 
stands  on  the  most  commanding  and  elevated  part  of 
Fifth  Avenue.  Its  interior  adornments,  its  fine 
paintings  within  the  chancel,  its  magnificent  organ- 
music,  its  exquisite  steeple-chimes,  all  contribute  to 
make  St.  Thomas's  Church  a  most  attractive  spot  to 
the  Sunday  church-goer  and  worshiper,  and  the 
church  is  always  well  filled. 

The  rector,  Dr.  Morgan,  is  a  man  of  excellent  char- 
acter, justly  esteemed  for  his  long  and  faithful 
services.  His  white  and  flowing  locks  give  him 
a  most  venerable  appearance.  His  age  does  not 
seem,  as  yet,  to  detract  much  from  his  popu- 
larity, and  this  is  made  up  by  the  very  accept- 
able services  and  popular  talents  of  his  assistant, 
the  Rev.  J.  Macay  Smith.  He  is  fortunate,  cer- 
tainly, in  having  so  desirable  and  acceptable  a 
coadjutor  and  fellow-laborer  in  the  church.  What 
a  most  interesting  past  does  the  history  of  this 
church  present !  When  St.  Thomas's  Church  stood 
on  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Houston  Street, 
it  was  attended  for  years  by  crowds  of  eager 
and  interested  listeners  during  the  ministry  of 
Dr.  Hawks.    None  who  ever  listened  to  his  wonder- 


New  York:   its  Growth,  etc,  99 

f ul  oratory  could  easily  forget  him.  The  pews,  aisles 
and  galleries  of  the  church  were  always  full,  leaving 
no  standing-room. 

Among  the  great  distinguished  pulpit  orators  of 
the  past,  who  can  cease  to  remember  the  names  of  Dr. 
Higbie  ;  Dr.  Haight,  of  Trinity  Church — now  passed 
away ;  the  elder  Dr.  Stephen  H.  Tyng,  too,  still 
living  to  a  good  old  age  at  his  home  on  the  Hudson  ? 
Few  men  have  left  such  a  striking  and  indelible  im- 
pression on  the  community  as  Dr.  Tyng.  It  is  said 
that  when  a  young  man,  while  preaching  in  a  small, 
inconsiderable  parish  in  Virginia,  he  received  a  call 
to  a  large  church  in  Philadelphia.  A  number  of  the 
parishioners  hearing  of  it,  fearing  lest  he  might  not 
be  able  to  satisfy  the  expectations  of  so  important 
and  large  a  parish,  sent  him  a  paper,  signed  by  sixty 
heads  of  families,  advising  him  not  to  accept  the  call. 
Dr.  Tyng,  on  receiving  the  document,  immediately 
resolved  that  he  would  accept  it,  saying  that  if  sixty 
persons  opposed,  that  would  determine  him  to  go  and 
see  if  he  could  not  make  them  think  differently.  He 
went,  and  soon  satisfied  their  highest  expectations. 
From  this  large  and  growing  parish  Dr.  Tyng  came 
to  the  City  of  New  York,  assuming  the  rectorship  of 
St.  George's  Church,  which  had  been  made  vacant 


100  New  York:   its  Growth,  etc. 

by  the  much  lamented  death  of  Dr.  Milnor.  The 
success  which  attended  his  labors  was  most  remark- 
able, and  soon  resulted  in  the  abandonment  of  old  St. 
George's  Church  in  Beekman  Street,  and  the  erec- 
tion of  a  more  spacious  edifice  on  the  corner  of 
Sixteenth  Street,  facing  Stuyvesant  Square.  Multi- 
tudes now  living  can  recall  the  remarkable  public 
addresses  and  powerful  platform  speeches  which  he 
formerly  made  in  behalf  of  various  religious  and  char- 
itable institutions,  such  as  the  American  Bible  Society, 
the  American  Tract  Society  and  in  behalf  of  temper- 
ance and  moral  reform.  On  all  such  occasions  his 
efforts  were  master-pieces  of  argument  and  reason- 
ing, such  as  made  a  most  telling  impression  upon 

his  auditors. 

Among  the  other  objects,  the  visitor  to  the  city 
will  not  fail  to  notice  the  imposing  St.  Patrick's 
Cathedral,  standing  on  the  crown  of  the  hill  on  Fifth 
Avenue.  Its  vast  roof,  and  towers,  and  buttresses 
of  white  marble,  arrest  the  eye  of  the  passer-by,  and 
crowds  may  be  seen  entering  its  open  doors  daily. 
Following  up  Madison  Avenue,  beyond  the  site  of 
the  Cathedral,  you  pass  by  quite  a  number  of  fine 
churches  ;  such,  for  example,  as  the  church  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Sabine— Reformed  Episcopal— a  very  chaste 


New  York:    its  Growth,  etc.  101 

and  beautiful  house  of  worship  ;  the  Rev.  Dr.  Robin- 
son's— Presbyterian  ;  the  Rev.  Dr.  Reed's — Dutch 
Reformed  Church. 

The  Church  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Gilbert,  pastor,  is  an  Episcopal  church,  and  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  structures  on  the  avenue.  It  is 
richly  ornamented,  has  a  fine  organ,  with  good 
music,  and  its  pastor  is  a  useful  and  acceptable 
preacher.  The  new  Methodist  church,  corner  of 
Sixtieth  Street,  is  a  very  ornate,  stylish  church — ■ 
sufficiently  so  to  suit  the  most  fastidious  class  of 
worshipers.  There  is  one  more  church,  called  the 
Church  of  the  Beloved  Disciple,  near  Eighty-sixth 
Street,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Warner,  rector.  It  was  built 
and  endowed  by  a  lady,  Miss  Caroline  Talman. 
Monuments  to  the  deceased  members  of  the  Talman 
family  stand  in  the  wall  on  the  side  of  the  church. 
The  music,  by  choir-boys,  is  well  conducted  and  im- 
pressive, and  the  rector  preaches  an  excellent, 
practical  sermon,  without  notes. 

One  day  we  crossed  and  entered  Central  Park  by 
the  entrance  not  far  from  Eighty-second  Street, 
which  brings  you  to  the  Museum  and  Art  Gallery, 
and  in  front  of  the  famous  Obelisk  brought  from  the 
River  Xile,  in  Egypt.  Upon  it  you  may  read  the 
old  inscriptions  and  see  the  sacred  birds,  and  as  you 


102  New  York:   its  Growth,  etc. 

look  at  the  tall,  massive  stone  column,  you  wonder 
how  it  could  have  been  brought  such  a  distance — all 
the  way  from  the  Nile.  The  Art  Gallery  and  Museum 
are  well  worth  visiting.  Many  rare  old  pictures  adorn 
the  Gallery.  The  lover  of  art  and  antiquity  might 
spend  days  in  examining  them  and  the  rare  curiosi- 
ties of  the  Museum.  Leaving  these,  we  strolled  down 
through  the  avenues  of  the  Park,  stopping  to  exam- 
ine the  many  statues  which  have  been  erected  here 
and  there  to  the  memory  of  great  historical  person- 
ages, such  as  Shakespeare,  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Hum- 
boldt, Robert  Burns,  Moore,  FitzGreene  Halleck  and 
others.  The  lake,  the  shaded  avenues  and  wooded 
lawns  of  the  Park  afford  delightful  breathing-places 
to  the  citizens  of  New  York  during  the  Spring  and 
Summer  months. 

To-day  being  Easter  Sunday,  we  went  forth  beneath 
a  bright  and  joyous  sunshine  to  commemorate  the 
grand  and  glorious  festival  of  the  Resurrection.  The 
services,  which  were  deeply  interesting,  were  held 
in  the  Church  of  the  Heavenly  Rest,  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Howland  being  rector.  This  is  certainly  a  most 
attractive  church.  The  large,  full-sized  picture  of 
the  Saviour  occupying  the  whole  space  in  the  chancel 
below  the  elegant  stained  window,  is  very  impress- 
ive,   and    seems    to  invite  the    worshiper  to  that 


New  York:   its  Growth,  etc.  103 

heavenly  rest  which  He  came  to  bestow  on  all  who 
will  follow  Him  and  walk  in  His  blessed  footsteps. 
The  rector  who  founded  this  beautiful  church,  which 
stands  on  Fifth  Avenue,  near  Forty-fifth  Street,  is 
now  in  impaired  health.  But  he  is  ably  assisted  by 
the  Rev.  D.  P.  Morgan,  a  most  earnest  and  eloquent 
preacher.  Many  are  being  drawn  to  the  church  and 
benefited  by  his  impressive  style  of  preaching.  A 
band  of  choir-boys  give  excellent  music,  and  the 
prospects  of  this  church  for  the  future  look  very 
encouraging. 


XIII. 

I  have,  in  former  letters,  spoken  of  such  topics  as 
"The  Bible"  and  "The  Church."  In  the  following 
letter  I  will  speak  of  home.  And  oh  !  what  a  magic 
and  powerful  influence  does  that  simple  word,  home, 
exert  upon  the  human  heart !  The  first  home  was  in 
Eden,  and  was  formed  by  the  Creator  Himself,  and 
consisted  of  Adam  and  Eve,  who  walked  forth  in 
loving  communion,  fresh  from  the  Creator's  hand; 
and  so  this  divine  appointment  of  the  domestic  insti- 
tution of  home  in  Paradise  has  outlived  the  convulsions 
of  kingdoms  and  the  destruction  of  empires.  The 
early  training  and  instruction  of  the  mother  at  home 
by  the  cradle  and  fireside  help,  more  than  anything 
else,  to  frame  those  habits  of  character  and  conduct 
which  form  the  future  man,  and  remain  with  him  as 
governing  principles  of  conduct  in  after  life,  long 
after  that  Christian  mother  may  have  moldered  into 
dust.  The  greatest  of  earthly  sovereigns,  Napoleon, 
when  speaking  of  the  power  of  mothers  in  the  home- 
circle  to  shape  a  nation's  destiny,  once  said,  "The 
great  need  of  France  is  mothers."  And  Mohammed 
104 


The  Family.  105 

expressed  forcibly  the  same  truth  when  he  said, 
"Paradise  is  at  the  feet  of  mothers. " 

There  is  no  overestimating  the  importance  of  our 
early  childhood  home — the  centre  of  the  purest  and 
most  tender  affection — where  every  good  and  holy 
principle  has  been  cultivated  by  a  mother's  hand,  and 
whence  so  many  of  the  great  and  good  in  all  ages 
have  come  to  bless  the  world.  Oh !  how  does  the 
memory  of  our  early  home,  its  dear  inmates,  its  fire- 
side surroundings,  and,  above  all,  the  picture  of  one 
who  with  a  patient  devotion  and  meek  endurance, 
ever  watched  and  guarded  our  steps,  and  dismissed 
us  at  twilight's  evening  hour  with  a  prayer  and  a 
blessing — oh !  how,  I  say,  does  the  memory  of  such 
scenes  shine  in  the  past  like  a  bright  star  and  encour- 
age us  along  life's  weary,  toilsome  pathway. 

Ah !  there  is  wonderful  truth  and  force  in  those 
beautiful  lines  of  Fanny  I.  Crosby  : 

"  'Tis  whispered  in  the  ear  of  God ; 

"Tie  murmured  through  our  tears ; 
"'Tis  linked  with  happy  childhood  days 

And  blessed  in  riper  years. 

"  That  hallowed  word  is  ne'er  forgot, 
No  matter  where  we  roam — 
The  purest  feelings  of  the  heart 
Still  cluster  round  our  home. 


106  The  Family. 

"Dear  resting-place,  where  weary  Thought 
May  dream  away  its  eare, 
Love's  gentle  star  unvails  her  light, 
And  shines  in  beauty  there." 

Let  me  proceed  now  to  state  what  ought  to  be  the 
characteristics  of  every  true  home  ;  and — 

1.  It  ought  to  be  a  Christian  home. 

There  can  be  no  well-regulated  home  without  piety, 
without  religion,  without  the  love  and  fear  of 
Almighty  God.  The  divine  origin  of  the  home  and 
the  family,  the  divine  sanction  thrown  around  it,  and 
the  divine  laws  written  down  in  God's  Book  for  the 
regulation  and  perpetuity  of  the  marriage  relation, 
all  go  to  show  that  the  only  true  conception  of  an 
earthly  home  as  it  should  be  is  a  Christian  home. 
And  yet,  how  many  are  there  who,  it  is  to  be  feared, 
enter  into  this  most  serious  and  solemn  of  all  condi- 
tions, involving  human  happiness  and  human  destiny, 
from  the  most  frivolous  considerations ;  to  gratify 
some  foolish  whim  or  fancy,  some  impulse  of  passion, 
or,  from  mercenary  motives,  they  barter  away  their 
hearts'  best  affections  for  gold,  and  soon  they  wake 
up  from  their  frivolous  dream  and  delusion  only  to 
realize  the  sternness  of  the  compact  upon  which  they 
have  entered,  and  to  find,  when  too  late,  that  they 
liave  made  the  one  grand  mistake  of  their  lives,  and 


The  Family.  107 

entailed  upon  themselves  a  consequent  wretchedness, 
from  which  there  is  no  remedy,  no  refuge  but  the 
grave ! 

Better  remain  as  you  are,  alone,  than  to  run  such  a 
fearful  risk  as  that  of  assuming  the  marriage  vow 
hastily  and  foolishly,  from  sentimental  fancy  or  blind 
passion.  Most  deplorable  will  be  the  consequences  if 
you  exclude  religious  considerations  from  that  most 
sacred  compact.  Both  reason  and  Scripture  unite  to 
protest  against  the  union  of  a  believer  with  an 
unbeliever,  and  exhort  us  to  "marry  only  in  the  Lord." 

There  must  be  kindness,  gentleness,  meekness, 
forbearance,  ministries  of  love  and  Christian  affection 
toward  one  another — not  only  on  the  part  of  parents 
toward  each  other,  but  also  toward  children.  By  the 
influence  of  early  teaching  and  example,  the  charac- 
ter is  formed  and  the  child  acquires  those  traits  and 
qualities  which  shape  and  form  its  character.  Chris- 
tianity must  begin  at  home.  If  it  is  not  there,  it  is 
nowhere.  The  most  important  question  is  not,  Does 
the  minister  wear  a  gown  or  a  surplice  ?  Do  you 
attend  religious  meetings  and  get  up  church- 
fairs  ?  but,  What  are  you  at  home  ?  Is  home  a 
better  and  happier  place  for  your  living  in  it  ?  Ah ! 
there  is  many  a  gorgeous  mansion,  many  a  home  of 
palatial  grandeur,  adorned  with  artistic  beauty ;  but 


108  The  Family. 

its  halls  are  the  abodes  of  fretfulness — discord,  and 
mutual  distrust  breathe  over  its  sumptuous  apartments 
like  a  robed  skeleton.  There  is  no  Christianity  there 
— no  heartfelt  principle  of  piety,  no  faith  in  God  in 
that  household.  If  you  would,  therefore,  make  home 
the  happiest  place — the  source  of  the  sweetest  con- 
solation ;  if  you  would  have  your  children  prove  a 
blessing,  and  not  a  curse,  see  to  it  that  you  first,  and 
above  all,  make  your  home  a  Christian  home. 

2.  In  the  next  place,  notice  another  characteristic 
of  a  true  home.     It  should  be  a  cheerful  home. 

Henry  Ward  Beecher  says:  "A  man's  house  or 
home  should  be  on  the  hilltop  of  cheerfulness  and 
serenity — so  high  that  no  shadows  rest  upon  it.  The 
morning  comes  so  early,  the  evening  tarries  so  late, 
that  the  day  has  twice  as  many  golden  hours  as  those 
of  other  men.  He  is  to  be  pitied  whose  house  or  home 
is  in  some  valley  of  grief,  between  the  hills,  with  the 
longest  night  and  the  shortest  day.  Home  should  be 
the  centre  of  joy,  equatorial  and  tropical." 

There  is  much  truth  stated  here.  A  Christian 
home  ought,  above  all,  to  be  a  place  of  cheerfulness. 
It  is  a  libel  on  religion  to  suppose  that  it  consists  in  an 
austere  manner,  and  a  sad  countenance,  and  going 
through  life  with  downcast  looks,  whining  and  fret- 
ting, and  forever  singing  penitential  psalms.     The 


The  Family,  109 

Saviour  Himself,  though  a  man  of  sorrows,  yet  joined 
in  the  innocent  festivities  of  a  wedding,  and  converted 
the  water  into  wine.  It  would  be  derogatory  to  the 
character  of  our  Father  and  Creator  to  suppose  that 
He  intended  that  his  children  in  this  world  should 
not  participate  in  life's  innocent  pleasures  and  enjoy- 
ments. On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  command  and  a  duty 
enjoined  upon  Christians,  "Rejoice  always;  and 
again  I  say  rejoice."  And  again,  it  is  said,  "A 
cheerful  heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine."  "  Young 
men,"  said  Dr.  Griffin  to  a  class  of  theological 
students,  "  I  wish  to  teach  you  the  Christian  duty  of 
laughing." 

If  you  would  make  your  home  what  it  ought  to  be, 
cultivate  this  habit  of  cheerfulness;  throw  bright 
gleams  of  sunshine  by  your  smiles  and  kind  words 
amid  the  family  group,  as  they  gather  round  the 
evening  fireside.  Smiles  cost  but  little,  but  remem- 
ber they  bring  encouragement,  and,  like  the  gentle 
Summer  rain  upon  the  flowers,  so  do  they  scatter 
fragrance  and  beauty  over  life's  pathway.  Such  a 
home,  no  matter  how  humble  it  may  be,  when  thus 
made  cheerful  and  glad  with  kind  words,  will  be  the 
one  spot  toward  which  the  hearts  of  its  inmates  will 
turn  lovingly,  in  after  years,  as  the  dearest. spot 
beneath  the  sun. 


110  The  Family. 

3.  Another  thing  which  ought  to  be  a  characteristic 
of  a  true  home  :  It  should  be  a  healthy  home.     This  is 
likewise  a  matter  of  great  importance,  and  too  often 
neglected.     How  can  you  expect  your  home  to  be 
cheerful  and  pleasant  when  its  inmates  are  sickly  and 
puny  and  weak  ?    Mens  sana  in  corpore  sa?w — a 
sound  mind  in  a  sound  body.     If  you  would  have 
healthful  emotions  of  the  mind— if  you  would  have 
pure,  transparent  thoughts,  take  care  of  the  body, 
and  obey  strictly  the  laws  that  pertain  to  your  physi- 
cal well-being.     The  great  and  good  Book  says  :  "I 
beseech  you,  therefore,  brethren,  by  the  mercies  of 
God,  that  ye  present  your  bodies — a  living  sacrifice — 
holy,  acceptable  unto  God,  which  is  your  reasonable 
service."    It  is  a  religious  duty,  then,  to  observe  the 
laws  of  health,  and  take  care  of  the  body.     And  in 
order  to  do  this,  people  must  have  knowledge  ;  they 
must  be  instructed  as  to  that  monument  of  wonderful 
divine  skill,  the  human  body — the  nature  and  adapta- 
tion of  all  its  parts,  and  the  means  of  their  preserva- 
tion ;  they  should  be  taught  the  need  of  exercise, 
pure  air  and  pure  water,  pure  sunshine,  proper  and 
thorough  drainage  of  their  homes,  the  proper  observ- 
ance of  the  laws  of  diet  and  bodily  cleanliness — all 
these  things  are  necessary  to  a  true  home.     What 
matters  it,  though  you  live  in  a  home  of  grandeur,  or 


The  Family.  Ill 

in  a  gorgeous  palace  of  Oriental  splendor,  and  have 
every  luxury  and  ornament  which  wealth  can  give, 
if  there  be  not  roseate  health  within  ?  You  may  have 
homes  graced  with  pictures,  refined  by  books,  beauti- 
fied by  flowers,  but  what  will  all  these  avail,  if  there 
be  not  there  the  joyousness  and  sweet  treasure  of 
health  ?  You  may  ride  in  your  magnificent  coach  to 
church,  with  your  liveried  servants,  and  walk  up  the 
aisle  in  gorgeous,  rustling  silks,  but  what  will  it  all 
avail  if  there  be  no  roseate  tint  of  health  on  the 
human  face  divine  ? 


XIV. 

In  the  following  letter  it  will  be  my  aim  to  present 
some  brief  recollections  of  two  very  distinguished 
Episcopal  clergymen.  The  first  is  that  of  Francis 
L.  Hawks,  D.D.,  LL.D.  When  I  first  knew  him  he 
was  preaching  in  Trinity  and  St.  Paul's  churches,  in 
New  Haven,  as  assistant  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Croswell. 
But  it  was  not  long  before  he  accepted  a  call  to 
Philadelphia  as  assistant  to  Bishop  White  in  St. 
James'  church.  In  1831  he  became  rector  of  St. 
Stephen's  church,  New  York,  and  in  the  following 
year  of  St.  Thomas'  church,  on  the  corner  of  Broad- 
way and  Houston  street.  This  was  the  scene  of  Dr. 
Hawks'  most  eloquent  efforts  as  a  preacher.  He 
was  also  a  powerful  speaker  in  the  conventions  and 
councils  of  the  church. 

His  gifts  as  an  orator  surpassed,  I  think,  those  of 
any  speaker  I  ever  heard.  Great  numbers  flocked  to 
his  church  from  all  parts  of  the  city  and  beyond  it, 
and  all  were  moved  and  entranced  by  his  effective 
preaching.  His  deep,  broad  and  impressive  tones 
in  reading  the  service  of  the  Episcopal  Church 
112 


THE  REV.    FRANCIS   L.  HAWKS,  D.D.,  LL.D., 

or  New  York. 


Rev.  Dr.  Hawks.  113 

arrested  the  attention.  His  imagination  would  carry 
them  captive,  and  his  pathos  would  move  them  to 
tears.  No  greater  pulpit  orator  ever  graced  the  Epis- 
copal Church.  Besides,  he  was  deeply  learned  and 
skilled  in  the  knowledge  of  canon  law  and  church 
history. 

After  Dr.  Hawks  left  St.  Thomas'  church  he 
became  rector  of  Calvary  church,  corner  of  Twenty- 
first  street  and  Fourth  avenue,  where  he  remained 
for  five  years.  During  the  civil  war  Dr.  Hawks 
preached  in  Baltimore.  He  then  returned  to  New 
York,  where  he  ministered  in  a  church  built  for  him 
by  friends  and  admirers.  Increasing  years  and  bod- 
ily infirmities  impaired  his  energies,  and  soon  after, 
in  1865,  he  departed  this  life,  leaving  behind  him  a 
well-earned  fame.  He  was  a  thoroughly  evangelical 
preacher,  and  a  warm  advocate  of  the  polity  of  the 
Episcopal  Church.  He  preached  the  pure  gospel, 
viewing  man  as  a  lost  sinner,  with  no  hope  or  refuge 
but  in  Christ.  His  last  utterance  was:  "I  cling  to 
the  cross  of  Jesus  as  my  only  hope."  More  than 
once  he  declined  an  important  bishopric,  and  his 
literary  remains  include  several  volumes. 

The  second  is  that  of  Bishop  Hobart.  Bishop 
John  Henry  Hobart  was  a  most  energetic,  talented, 
and  popular  divine,  who  did  more,  perhaps,  than  any 


114  Bishop  Hobart. 

other  prelate  to  advance  the  interests  and  prosperity 
of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  this  country.  He  was  of 
English  descent,  born  in  Philadelphia  Sept.  14,  1775. 
His  early  education  and  training  devolved  very 
much  upon  his  mother,  who  seems  to  have  been  a 
woman  of  fine  abilities  and  many  accomplishments. 
He  entered  the  grammar  school  in  Philadelphia  and 
subsequently  graduated  at  Princeton  College,  where 
he  was  appointed  tutor  in  the  year  1796. 

He  studied  theology  under  the  direction  of  Bishop 
White,  by  whom  he  was  ordained  deacon  in  June, 
1798.  He  spent  some  time  in  the  discharge  of  his 
duties  as  rector  of  St.  George's  parish,  Hempstead, 
L.  I.  By  this  time  he  had  become  a  man  of  mark, 
and  exhibited  such  extraordinary  pulpit  powers  that 
the  attention  of  more  important  congregations  was 
drawn  to  him.  He  received  a  call  to  St.  Mark's 
church  in  the  City  of  New  York,  which  was  soon 
followed  by  a  still  more  important  call  to  become 
assistant  minister  of  Trinity  church.  He  filled  this 
position  with  great  and  increasing  popularity  from 
about  the  year  1801  to  1811,  when,  in  consequence  of 
the  failing  health  and  infirmities  of  Bishop  Moore, 
he  was  elected,  almost  unanimously.  Bishop  of  the 
diocese  of  New  York.  Thus  was  it  that  Bishop 
Hobart  rose  from  one  position  to  another  until  he 


THE   RIGHT  REV.    JOHN  HENRY   HOB  ART,   D.D.,   LL.  D., 
Thibd  Bishop  of  New  Yoek. 


Bishop  Hobart.  115 

reached  the  highest  pinnacle  of  power  and  influence 
in  the  American  Episcopal  Church.  How  well,  and 
successfully,  he  discharged  the  important  trust  his- 
tory testifies.  He  not  only  administered  his  func- 
tions as  bishop  with  great  care  and  unfaltering  zeal 
and  promptitude,  but  he  also  carried  his  labors  into 
other  vacant  dioceses,  particularly  New  Jersey  and 
Connecticut.  He  helped  to  establish  in  New  York 
City  the  General  Theological  Seminary  and  published 
many  books  and  controversial  writings  in  defence 
of  Church  doctrine  and  polity. 

The  accumulating  labors  of  Bishop  Hobart  began 
at  length  to  make  serious  inroads  upon  his  constitu- 
tion, and  it  was  thought  advisable  for  him  to  visit 
Europe,  which  he  did  in  1822,  travelling  through 
England,  Scotland,  Wales,  France,  Switzerland  and 
Italy.  In  all  these  countries  he  was  received  with 
marks  of  favor,  and  returned  home  in  1824  with 
renewed  health.  He  still  continued  to  labor  on,  in 
his  accustomed  round  of  duties,  in  frequent  visita- 
tions of  his  parishes.  I  can  recall  some  of  his  visita- 
tions to  my  father's  parish  at  Bedford,  N.  Y.  I 
remember  his  intellectual  face  and  keen  eye,  which 
betokened  great  earnestnes  and  intensity  of  thought, 
and  how  powerfully  and  impressively  he  conveyed 
his  thoughts  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers.     While  he 


116  Bishop  Hobart. 

was  making  one  of  these  visitations  in  the  parish  of 
his  friend  Dr.  Rudd,  at  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  in  the  year 
1830,  he  was  prostrated  with  a  sudden  illness,  which 
proved  to  be  his  last.  His  death  made  a  most  pro- 
found impression  throughout  the  country.  Many 
funeral  orations  and  commemorative  discourses  were 
preached,  and  no  less  than  thirteen  of  them  were 
published  in  his  memoir. 


XV. 


We  have  just  returned  from  the  city,  after  a  stay 
of  something  over  two  months,  and  are  now  back 
again  in  our  lovely  country  home.  While  in  the 
city  our  time  was  spent  partly  in  attending  to  busi- 
ness and  partly  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  kindly  hos- 
pitality and  intercourse  of  friends  and  relatives. 
We  stopped  a  part  of  the  time  not  far  from  the  resi- 
dence of  General  Grant,  in  Sixty-sixth  Street.  Of 
course  our  very  contiguity  to  this  distinguished  man 
—so  justly  esteemed  for  his  great  services  to  his 
country,  and  so  universally  sympathized  with  dur- 
ing his  long  and  painful  illness— served  to  increase 
the  interest  we  felt  in  him;  and  we  eagerly  perused 
the  morning  and  evening  papers  to  learn  the  latest 
news  concerning  the  health  of  the  old  hero  of  our 
Civil  War.  As  I  said  before,  we  are  back  again 
within  our  Summer  home.  It  is  a  bright  and  beau- 
ful  morning  in  the  leafy  month  of  June.  The  sun 
has  arisen,  and  is  marching  along  the  blue  heavens, 
pouring  his  cheering  beams  upon  the  landscape.  A 
soft,  gentle  breeze  rustles  amid  the  trees.  All 
117 


113       Summer  Life  at  Waldegrave  Cottage. 

nature  is  dressed  in  its  loveliest  attire;  the  air  is 
redolent  with  the  perfume  of  flowers ;  the  sweet 
notes  of  the  robins  and  blue-birds  fall  soothingly  on 
the  ear.     Our  cottage    is  pleasantly  located  on    a 
gentle  slope  of  ground,  and  stands  on  a  fine  avenue, 
which  is  lined  on  either  side  with  tall,  graceful  elms. 
With  its  green,  shaded  lawn  in  front,  its  veranda 
covered  with  honeysuckles,  and  its  roses  and  many- 
hued  flowers  and  shrubs,  it  is  a  pleasant  country 
home.     There  are  many  beautiful  drives  all  about  us. 
This  morning,  let  us  go,   if  you  will,  to   "Keyser 
Island  " — so  named  from  its  proprietor.     It  is  a  fav- 
orite drive  with  people  here,  and  lies  down  by  the 
waters  of  Long  Island  Sound.     After  a  few  miles' 
ride  through  the  town  and  its  outskirts,  we  cross  a 
salt  marsh  and  then  come  upon  the  island,  on  which, 
there    is    a    handsome    residence,    with    cultivated 
grounds,   fruit-trees,   a  variety  of    shrubbery,   and 
some  fine  pieces  of  statuary  ornamenting  the  walks. 
The  road  winds  around  the  island  on  the  edge  of 
the  water.     As  we  drive  along,  we  see  the  mossy 
rocks  and  hear  the  plashing  waves  as  they  dash 
against  the    pebbly  beach.      In    sight  are    several 
wooded  islands,  with  their  habitations,  for  which  this 
coast  is  remarkable.     Out  upon  the  water  may  be 
seen  many  sail-boats    and  little  oyster-craft.     Out 


Class  Meeting  at   Yale,  119 

upon  these  very  waters  where  our  eyes  now  rest,  in 
the  month  of  July,  1779,  a  British  ship  came  to 
anchor,  and  its  forces,  disembarking,  proceeded 
under  Tryon,  up  to  the  town,  which  was  then  a  small 
hamlet  of  a  few  houses,  and  burned  them  to  the 
ground.  What  a  contrast  between  that  scene  and 
the  one  presented  at  this  day  of  a  thriving  city  of 
fifteen  thousand  inhabitants  ! 

There  are  scenes  and  events  in  our  lives  which 
leave  unusually  interesting  memories  behind  them. 
One  of  these  is  the  recollection  of  college  life  at  Yale. 
Who  could  ever  forget  the  morning  when  he  started, 
followed  by  a  mother's  tender  smile,  and  a  father's 
blessing,  for  the  distant  college,  to  enter  for  the  first 
time  its  academic  halls,  to  pass  his  examination  in 
presence  of  the  august  members  of  the  faculty,  and 
then  to  step  forth  with  the  proud  feeling  that  his 
name  has  been  enrolled  as  one  of  the  Freshman 
class.  I  can  well  recollect  how  elated  I  was  as  I  left 
the  building  and  walked  down  under  the  elms, 
through  the  college  grounds,  looking  with  interest 
into  the  faces  of  my  class-mates  whom  I  had  met. 
Who  can  forget  the  old  familiar  haunts,  the  recita- 
tion rooms,  the  oft-frequented  library,  the  cabinet, 
the  Trumbull  gallery  with  its  fine  paintings,  includ- 
ing the  portraits  of  the  faculty  and  the  striking  fam- 


120  Class  Meeting  at    Yale. 

ily  picture  of  Bishop  Berkeley  ?  Could  one  forget  the 
splendid  lectures  of  Professors  Benjamin  Silliman, 
Olmstead,  Goodrich,  or  the  meetings  and  exercises 
of  the  various  literary  societies  ?  Could  any  one 
forget  Commencement  Day,  when,  standing  on  the 
stage,  amid  men  of  learning  and  renown,  and  in 
presence  of  anxious  relatives  and  friends,  he  deliv- 
ered his  alloted  speech,  and  then  took  his  final 
departure,  bidding  farewell  to  college  life  and  college 
companions  ?  With  all  these  scenes  fresh  in  our 
minds,  we  come  back  to-day  to  meet  the  small  rem- 
nant of  our  class  left,  after  fifty  years  spent  in  the 
pleasures  and  toils  of  professional  life.  To-day  we 
took  the  cars  at  an  early  hour  for  New  Haven,  arriv- 
ing about  half -past  ten  a.  m.  ,  thus  giving  us  time  to 
rest  a  while,  dine  at  our  hotel,  and  take  a  short 
ramble  through  the  beautiful  city,  and  view  once 
more  the  ever  favorite  halls  of  Yale.  There  stand 
the  same  time-worn  structures  we  remember,  but 
with  them  are  many  new  ones,  fine  noble  edifices, 
such  as  the  Sheffield  Scientific  School  and  the  Art 
Gallery,  the  Marquand  Chapel,  the  new  dormitories, 
and  various  buildings  for  scientific  and  literary  pur- 
poses. 

The  hour    having  arrived  for    our    meeting,    we 
proceeded    to    the    hospitable    home    of    Professor 


Class  Meeting  at   Yale.  121 

Thatcher,  the  class-secretary.  It  was  the  identical 
house  so  long  occupied  and  blessed  by  the  presence  of 
that  good  man,  President  Day.  Judge  of  our  sur- 
prise, on  entering  the  professor's  study,  to  find  there 
gathered  no  less  than  twenty  men  out  of  thirty-five 
survivors  of  a  class  of  seventy-five  who  graduated 
at  Yale  in  the  year  1835.  What  a  mile-stone  this  is 
in  life's  journey  !  What  a  hill-top  to  reach  and  stand 
on  for  a  moment,  while  we  look  back  over  the  rough 
roads  and  sharp,  sunny  peaks  we  have  left  behind  us! 
We  can  scarcely  expect  to  have  another  gathering 
like  this ;  certainly  we  cannot  see  all  these  faces  again. 
But  though  old  in  appearance  they  are  young  in 
heart  and  cherish  a  fond  affection  for  each  other  and 
their  Alma  Mater.  There  were  present  Professor 
Thatcher,  so  long  and  so  deservedly  held  in  high 
esteem  for  his  services  as  Professor  of  the  Latin  Lan- 
guage and  Literature  in  Yale  College  (now  Emeri- 
tus); Professor  Brocklesby,  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  who 
has  filled,  with  great  credit  to  himself  and  Yale,  the 
chair  of  Mathematics  and  Natural  Philosophy  in 
Trinity  College  for  forty  years;  the  Rev.  Mr.  Sher- 
man, a  missionary  for  many  years  in  Palestine ;  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Cheeseborough,  of  Saybrook,  Conn.;  the 
Rev.  A.  M.  Colton,  of  East  Hampton,  Mass.  (the  two 
latter  having  resigned  their  parishes  at  the  age  of 


122  Class  Meeting  at    Yale. 

seventy);  the  Rev.  Mr.  Butler,  of  Dorchester,  Mass. 
Besides  these  there  were  present  the  Rev.  Dr.  How- 
ard, of  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  an  Episcopal  clergyman,  and 
the  Rev.  George  W.  Nichols,  also  a  clergyman  of  the 
Church,   formerly  of    Brooklyn,   now   of    Norwalk, 
Conn.;    also  several    distinguished    physicians,   Dr. 
Robinson,  of  Concord,  Mass. ;  Dr.  Dimon,  of  Auburn, 
N.  Y. ;  Dr.  Josiah  Abbott,  of  Winchester,  Mass. ;  Dr. 
Daniel  L.  Adams,  of  Ridgefield,  Conn.;  S.  H.  Galpin, 
of  Washington,  D.  C;  Edmund  White,  of  New  York; 
Amos  Pettingell,  of  Philadelphia,  a  successful  teacher 
of  the  deaf  and  dumb;  O.  B.  Loomis,  of  New  York, 
a  painter  of  note ;  J.  F.  Seymour,  of  Onondaga,  N. 
Y.,   a  distinguished  lawyer,   who  has  held  several 
public  offices,  and  is  a  brother  of  Governor  Seymour, 
of  New  York.     So  that  it  will  be  seen  that  the  class 
of  1835  presents  a  record  of  useful  work.     We  lis- 
tened with  deep  interest  to  the  accounts  which  each 
member  of  the  class  gave  of  himself,  heard  letters 
read  from  absent  ones,  examined  their  photographs, 
etc.,  until  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  and  then,  after 
a  bountiful  repast,  we  separated  for  our  homes.     It 
was  an  occasion  never  to  be  forgotten. 


XVI. 

The  sentence  originally  pronounced  upon  our  first 
parents,  after  they  had  fallen,  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  shalt  thou  eat  bread,"  though  a  just  and  well 
deserved  penalty  for  disobedience  was,  nevertheless, 
a  sentence  mingled  with  mercy.  It  would  not  be 
difficult  to  show  that  the  Almighty  was  consulting 
for  the  highest  good  of  His  creatures  when  He  thus 
made  labor  their  inevitable  lot.  I  say,  inevitable, 
for,  look  where  we  will,  with  few  exceptions,  it  is 
only  by  hard  toil  that  men  gain  their  daily  bread, 
and  when  he  has  not  literally  to  live  by  the  sweat  of 
ms  brow,  he  may  have  to  do  that,  which  is  more 
difficult  still — live  by  the  sweat  of  his  brain.  Intel- 
lectual food  like  bodily,  must  be  gathered  by  dint  of 
industry  and  toil.  So  that  it  is  the  dispensation 
under  which  we  all  live  that  we  should  be,  each  one, 
a  laborer.  Go  where  you  will,  whether  to  the  regions 
covered  with  polar  snows,  or  those  scorched  by  the 
rays  of  a  tropical  sun,  and  you  will  find  the  ground 
yields  little  that  labor  does  not  extort  from  its  bosom. 
This  might  seem  at  first  a  stern  decree,  that  all  men 
123 


124  The   Great   Object  of  Life. 

should  be  under  the  necessity  of  toiling  for  a  liveli- 
hood and  often  wringing  only  a  scanty  subsistence 
from  the  earth.  Yet,  a  little  close  reflection  will 
serve  to  convince  us  that  this  arrangement  of  Provi- 
dence is  most  wise  and  that  it  would  be  disastrous  to 
the  human  race  to  do  away  with  this  necessity  for 
toil.  For,  who  does  not  know  that  labor  brings  with 
it  enjoyment  and  health  and  contentment  of  mind  ? 
Who  so  miserable  as  the  perfectly  idle  man,  who 
does  nothing  but  sit  and  eat  and  sleep  away  his  life  ? 
Who  so  miserable  as  he,  and  as  a  general  thing  who 
so  little  deserving  of  regard  ?  But  while  it  is  a  good 
thing  to  be  industrious,  and  to  labor  in  some  honest 
calling  and  aim  to  supply  our  temporal  wants,  the 
question  here  arises,  is  this  the  great  object  of  life  ? 
Is  it  not  a  vastly  more  important  thing  for  men  to 
make  provision  for  the  higher  and  enduring  life  of 
the  soul  ?  Our  Saviour  taught  us  this  great  lesson  of 
making  provision  for  the  life  to  come  when  He  de- 
clared "  man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by 
every  word  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of  God." 
Let  me  thei  proceed  to  illustrate  this  last  point  by, 
first,  appealing  to  the  example  of  Deity.  Consider  the 
Supreme  Being  as  the  great  Architect  of  this  creation, 
calling  into  being  innumerable  worlds,  peopling  im- 
mensity with  mighty  globes,  and  covering  them  with 


The   Great   Object  of  Life.  125 

their  countless  races  of  living  creatures.     See  Him 
guiding  and  controling  these  worlds,  ordering  their 
complex  machinery  and  laws.     From  day  to  day  He 
stretches  His  guardian  wing  over  them  all  and  over 
the  countless  beings  that  inhabit  them.    Look  at  this 
world  in  which  we  live,  adorned  with  noble  forests, 
lovely  lakes  and  rivers,   and  majestic  mountains. 
See  the  sun  which  "  cometh  forth  as  a  bridegroom 
out  of  his  chamber  and  rejoiceth  as  a  giant  to  run 
his  course,"  dispensing  heat  and  life,  scattering  his 
cheering  and  gladsome  beams  upon  both  the  animate 
and   the    inanimate  creation.      Behold  the  silvery 
moon,    shedding  down    upon    this  globe  her  mild 
radiance.     Look  at  the  countless  stars  as  they  shine 
nightly,  in  the  firmament.      Take  the  telescope  and 
direct  your  steadfast  and  eager  gaze  into  those  vast 
and    interminable  spaces  where  the  great  God  is 
carrying  on  His  mighty  operations.     As  you  cast 
your  feeble  sight  thither,  you  perceive  that  the  most 
distant  stars  within  our  vision  are  only  the  porchway 
—the  suburbs,  that  lead  to  the  myriads  upon  myri- 
ads of  worlds  which  cover  the  plains  of  immensity. 
Now  what  can  you  find,  let  me  ask,  as  you  take  a 
survey  of  all  this  wondrous  extent  of  the  operations 
of  Deity— I  say  what  can  you  find  to  countenance 
for  a  moment  the  selfish  idea  that  the  great  object  of 


126  The   Great   Object  of  Life. 

life  here  is  to  live  for  one's  self,  to  seek  to  amass 
earthly  wealth  and  gratify  earthly  appetites  and 
passions  ?  What  is  the  Deity  doing  in  all  these 
countless  worlds  ?  Is  He  seeking  to  enrich  Himslf  ? 
No;  He  is  always  giving  from  His  own  inexhaustible 
fullness  to  benefit  and  bless  the  creatures  of  His 
hand.  And  shall  man  make  it  his  chief  business  to 
live  to  acquire  earthly  good  and  seek  the  bread  that 
perisheth,  when  he  has  before  him  such  an  example 
of  ceaseless  beneficence  as  that  of  Deity  ? 

But  look  at  another  example  to  show  what  is  the 
great  and  true  object  of  life— that  of  Jesus  Christ. 
What  does  His  example  teach  us  ?  Does  that  give  any 
approval  to  the  thought  that  the  great  object  of  life 
it  to  pursue  mere  temporary  good  ?  Reflect  upon 
Jesus  in  His  nativity  ;  though  He  was  the  earth's 
Creator,  yet  stooping  to  lie  down  on  a  bed  of  straw 
and  to  have  His  first  home  on  this  earth  with  the 
beasts  of  the  stall,  while  beings  fron  the  heavenly 
world  descend  and  hover  over  His  rude  birthplace, 
and  its  own  new-made  star  shines  above  it.  Think 
of  Him  in  His  life  and  ministry  ;  keeping  company 
with  humble  fishermen  while  giving  often  startling 
and  wonderful  proofs  of  His  Godhead,  as  when  He 
stood  at  the  mouth  of  Lazarus'  tomb,  and  cried  with 
a  loud  voice  "  Lazarus,  come  forth  "  and  he  who  had 


The   Great   Object  of  Life.  127 

been  dead  four  days  and  had  seen  corruption  came 
forth  alive  again,  or  when  He  paused  in  His  journey 
and  regarded  the  cry  of  the  poor  blind  beggar  near 
Jericho  and  made  him  to  see  the  sweet  vision  of  the 
light  and  of  the  countenances  of  friends.  Look  at 
Jesus  in  all  His  earthly  toils  and  labors  and  miracles 
which  were  done  without  fee  or  reward,  out  of  pure 
love  of  doing  good,  while  no  return  was  asked  save 
only  the  look  of  that  thankfulness  and  love  which  were 
inspired  in  the  souls  of  those  poor  widows  and  suffer- 
ing children  upon  whom  His  blessed  acts  of  mercy 
were  bestowed  ;  look  at  Him  at  last  assailed  by  His 
enemies  and  bloodthirsty  persecutors,  condemned 
to  death,  nailed  to  the  cross  and  there  expiring  in 
agony,  while,  with  an  upward  look  of  pitying  love, 
He  prays  for  His  murderers,  "  Father  forgive  them 
for  they  know  not  what  they  do  !"  Then  think  of  His 
resurrection  :  His  sacred  form  was  laid  in  the  rocky 
sepulchre  and  guarded  well  by  Roman  soldiers  ;  and 
yet  He  bursts  these  bonds  and  rises  up  a  glorious 
conqueror  over  death  and  the  grave,  thus  making  it 
sure  that  the  dead  shall  be  revived  again.  And  once 
more  think  of  the  touching  incidents  which  after 
His  resurrection  followed  His  discourse  with  Mary, 
His  sudden  and  unexpected  interviews  with  His 
disciples,  His  mysterious  walk  with  two  of  them  as 


128  The   Great   Object  of  Life. 

they  went  to  the  village  of  Emmaus,  His  gentle 
reproof  of  Thomas,  His  final  charge  and  commis- 
sion to  the  Apostles  to  go  forth  and  preach  the  Gospel 
to  every  creature  ;  and  then,  follow  Christ  to  that 
last,  never  to  be  forgotten  scene  of  His  ascension 
from  Mount  Olivet,  when,  on  giving  His  disciples 
His  parting  blessing,  His  radiant  form  suddenly  rose 
upward  amid  the  clouds.  Yes,  look  at  Jesus  as  He 
appears  in  all  the  wonderful  events  of  His  life,  and 
then  say  if  life's  great  and  highest  good  is  to  please 
and  gratify  one's  self,  to  amass  riches  and  provide 
the  bread  of  this  world  only  ;  or,  is  it  not  rather  to 
seek  that  enduring  bread  which  cometh  from  heaven, 
to  cultivate  that  nobler,  that  everlasting  life  of  the 
soul  for  which  it  was  created  in  the  image  and 
likeness  of  God  ? 

Finally,  we  will  make  an  appeal  to  the  example  of 
the  holy  angels.  What  is  their  occupation  ?  Is  not 
their  life  spent  in  ceaseless  benevolence  and  tender 
sympathy  and  helpful  ministrations  in  behalf  of 
others  ?  We  are  told,  that,  "  there  is  joy  in  heaven 
over  one  sinner  that  repenteth"  and  again,  "Are 
they  not  all"  says  an  Apostle  "ministering  spirits 
sent  forth  to  minister  to  them  that  shall  be  heirs  of 
salvation."  All  those  varied  ranks  of  celestial  intelli- 
gences, of  archangels,  cherubim  and  seraphim  which 


The   Great   Object  of  Life.  129 

surround  the  throne  above,  and  continually  ascribe 
praise  and  honor  and  glory  to  Him  Who  sitteth 
thereon  ;  while  those  whose  duty  is  here  are  ever  busy 
in  their  kind  offices  to  God's  believing  people,  succor- 
ing and  sustaining  them  in  their  earthly  conflicts  and 
trials.  With  intense  longing  they  welcome  each 
returning  penitent  in  the  Church  below,  and  the 
joyful  news  of  the  blessed  transformation  fills  heaven 
with  new  transports  of  rejoicing.  What  does  such 
a  spectacle  teach  but  this,  that  the  highest  object  and 
purpose  that  man  can  live  for  is  to  be  "  not  weary  in 
well  doing  "  and  to  consecrate  himself  to  that  charity 
which  is  life  eternal. 

"  Life  is  real,  life  is  earnest 

And  the  grave  is  not  its  goal; 
Dust  thou  art,  to  dust  returnest , 

Was  not  spoken  of  the  soul." 

And  the  soul's  life  is  in  God  :  and,  God  is  love. 


XVII. 


"  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?"  This  is  a  question  of 
transcendent  interest  and  importance.  There  is  not 
in  the  range  of  Christian  Theology  a  question  of 
higher  practical  concern.  What  think  ye  of  Christ  ? 
Some  questions  have  to  do  with  our  intellectual 
nature  only ;  for  example,  suppose  you  were  to  cross- 
the  ocean  and  enter  the  city  of  London,  a  city  of 
30  miles  circuit,  filled  with  magnificent  parks  and 
stately  buildings  and  streets  of  trade  and  industry — 
suppose  you  were  to  enter  Westminster  Abbey ;  and, 
as  you  stood  filled  with  awe  and  amazement,  looking 
at  the  marble  monuments  of  poets,  philosophers,  states- 
men, divines,  composing  the  congregation  of  England's 
illustrious  dead,  some  one  one  were  to  ask  you  what 
you  thought  of  that  majestic  edifice  ?  Your  reply 
would  be,  "  Here  is  surely  the  triumph  of  true  genius 
and  art."  But  that  would  be  a  question  pertaining: 
merely  to  your  intellectual  nature.  Or,  again,  sup- 
130 


The   Vital   Question.  131 

pose  some  one  should  ask  you  what  you  thought  of 
the  immortal  works  of  Bunyan,  John  Milton,  Shake- 
speare, Walter  Scott ;  your  answer  would  be  "These 
also  are  the  true  and  substantial  monuments  of 
intellectual  greatness."  But  the  question  with 
which  this  letter  begins  is  of  a  higher  order.  In 
discussing  it  let  us  try  to  see,  first,  what  it  does  not 
imply,  and  then  what  it  does  imply. 

1st.  I  would  observe  this  question  is  not,  what  do 
you  think  of  Christ  simply  as  a  philanthropist, 
wonderful  as  he  was  in  going  from  village  to  village 
and  from  house  to  house  doing  good  and  ministering 
to  the  wants  of  the  diseased,  and  the  afflicted.  It  is 
not  what  do  you  think  of  Jesus  as  He  sat  bathed  in 
tears  beside  the  tomb  of  His  dead  friend  Lazarus 
near  that  home  so  beautiful  in  affection— the  home  at 
Bethany.  It  is  not  what  do  you  think  of  Him  as  He 
once  passed  near  the  gates  of  the  city  of  Nain,  and 
there  met  Him  a  funeral  procession,  a  poor  widow  fol- 
lowing the  remains  of  her  only  and  beloved  boy  to  the 
place  of  burial,  when  Jesus  with  an  eye  of  compassion 
turning  to  that  desolate  woman  and  placing  His  hand 
on  the  bier  uttered  in  the  hearing  of  all  the  assembly 
that  marvellous  summons  :  "  Young  man,  I  say  unto 
thee,  arise,"  and  the  dead  did  arise,  with  the  warm 
pulses  of  life  again  beating  through  his  frame,  and  a 


132  The    Vital   Question. 

joy  indescribable  lighted  up  that  mother's  face  as  she 
grasped  once  more  the  hand  of  her  dear  one  restored 

to  life. 

It  is  not,  what  do  you  think  of  Christ,  as  He  appears 
to  you  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  when  His 
countenance    shone  as    the    midday    sun  and  His 
raiment  was  white  as  the  light,  and  Peter  exclaimed  : 
"  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here."    It  is  not,  what 
do  you  think  of  him  as  he  walked  once  on  the  sea  as 
if  it  had  been  a  granite  pavement,  or,   yet  again, 
when  He  stood  in  the  little  ship  with  His  alarmed 
disciples  amid  the  storm-tossed  billows  of  the  Lake  of 
Gennesareth,  and  said  to  those  raging  waters  "  Peace, 
be  still,"  and  the  sea  immediately  became  calm,  the 
winds  were  hushed  to  rest.     No,  this  is  not  what  is 
specially  implied  in  that  searching  inquiry  :  "  What 
think  ye  of  Christ,"  though  it  is  indeed  a  delightful 
task  to  trace  our  Kedeemer  through  all  these  varied 
and  wonderful  scenes    of  His  earthly  life,   and  to 
behold,  as  we  do  in  them  all,  His  amazing  tender- 
ness and   compassion.     The  all-important  enquiry 
which  we  are  now  considering  means  much  more 
than  this.     It  is  a  question  passing  down  from  the 
Iiead  to  the  heart  and  affecting  our  spiritual  nature. 
It  means   "What  think  ye  of  Christ  as  your  Re- 
deemer f"    What  think  ye  of  Christ  Who  endured 


The    Vital   (Question.  133 

the  cross  for  you,  Christ  Who  was  scourged  and  nailed 
to  the  shameful  tree  for  you,  Christ  Who  was  mockedr 
buffeted,  spit  upon  and  put  to  death  for  you ;  and 

hence 

2d.  We  observe  that  this  question  implies  the 
acknowledgement  of  Christ's  Deity.  Have  you  ever 
duly  considered  what  Jesus  Christ  was  ?  Have  you 
ever  thought,  this  Jesus  Who  bled  and  suffered  and 
died  on  the  cross,  who  stooped  to  this  unparalleled 
humiliation  was  none  other  than  the  Son  of  God,  was- 
He  who  hung  yon  lamps  in  heaven's  dome,  Who 
spake  into  being  this  globe  on  which  we  tread,  and 
garnished  it  with  trees  and  flowers,  and  filled  it  with 
living  creatures  ?  No  man  who  has  carefully  and  hon- 
estly examined  Holy  Scripture  can  reach  any  other 
conclusion  than  this,  viz. ,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  God, 
'  'God  over  all,  blessed  forever ;"  not  simply  the  greatest 
of  prophets  or  the  greatest  of  teachers  or  the  most 
perfect  of  mankind,  but  a  divine  mediator.  Read 
over  the  Sacred  Record ;  see  how  He  claims  His  own 
equality  with  the  Father,  nay  His  unity  with  the 
Father,  "I,  and  My  Father  are  one,"  "he  that  hath 
seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father." 

I  have  no  sympathy  with  some  of  those  of  the 
present  day,  who  would  throw  discredit  on  the 
doctrine  of  Christ's  Godhead,  and  who  assert  that  He 


134  The    Vital   Question. 

was  only  a  great  teacher  or  prophet  or  religious 
genius,  and  taught  pure  and  lofty  morality. 

They  say  that  it  was  unworthy  of  God  to  give  up 
His  Son  to  such  unparalleled  humiliation,  that  §uch 
an  interposition  is  too  wonderful  and  too  strange  to 
he  believed.  But  notwithstanding  these  idle  criti- 
cisms the  whole  Christian  world  now,  as  for  nineteen 
centuries,  glories  in  this  gospel  because  none  but  God 
Himself  in  our  nature  could  ever  make  an  atone- 
ment that  could  save  our  guilty  souls  or  render  satis- 
faction for  a  world's  transgressions.  Upon  any  other 
hypothesis  mankind  would  give  up  in  despair  the 
hope  of  salvation ;  upon  any  other  hypothesis,  the 
Bible  scheme  of  redemption  is  illogical  and  unmean- 
ing. Nothing  short  of  a  Divine  surety  and  a  Divine 
sacrifice  could  ever  answer  the  ends  to  be  accom- 
plished, vindicate  the  Divine  law,  and  satisfy  infinite 
justice.  It  must  be  salvation  through  the  Cross  of  a 
Divine  Saviour,  God  incarnate,  or  no  salvation  at  all. 
Away  then,  from  mind  and  heart,  the  thought  that 
Jesus  is  only  a  greater  Socrates  or  Plato.  Of  what  pos- 
sible benefit  can  that  be  to  a  poor,  lost,  undone  sinner. 
Give  unto  us  our  God  on  whom  to  fasten  our  hopes  of 
salvation.  To  Him  we  will  cling  forever ;  and  when 
we  can  no  longer  retain  our  consciousness,  when  we 
are  torn  away  from  our  family  and  from  the  familiar 


The   Vital  Question,  135 

scenes  of  earth,  and  an  unseen  hand  pushes  our  bark 
across  the  Jordan  of  death,  then  in  "  Emmanuel,  God 
with  us,"  will  we  put  our  trust,  and  upborne  by 
His  mighty  and  loving  hand  pass  quietly  over  the 
troubled  waters  into  the  haven  of  rest. 

3d.  This  question  is  preeminently  a  practical  one, 
which  should  shape  our  everyday  life  and  conduct. 
The  great  atonement  which  Christ  made  for  your  sins 
and  mine,  is  not  a  bare  isolated  fact  for  us  to  receive 
or  not  just  as  we  would  some  fact  in  history  or  science ; 
but,  it  is  something  to  be  applied  to  ourselves— some- 
thing to  be  acted  upon — something  to  be  lived  up  to. 
God  has  done  so  much  for  us,  has  given  to  us  so  abun- 
dantly of  His  love  and  His  grace ;  and  have  we  on  our 
part  nothing  to  do  ?  we,  no  sacrifice  to  make  ?  we, 
no  cross  to  bear  ?  Ah  !  our  own  reason,  our  own  best 
thoughts  and  impulses  convince  us  to  the  contrary. 
God  has  done  His  part,  we  must  do  ours.  He  hath 
made  us  free  moral  agents,  free  to  accept  or  reject 
the  wondrous  offer  of  salvation.  It  is  a  solemn  and 
awakening  thought  that  we  may  by  our  own  indiffer- 
ence and  neglect  render  this  great  work  of  human 
redemption  of  no  benefit  or  avail  to  ourselves. 

During  the  last  century  there  lived  in  one  of  the 
rural  districts  of  England  a  faithful  parish  minister 
of  the  Church.     One  day  he  went,  as  was  his  custom, 


>J 


'• 


136  The    Vital   Question. 

to  a  farmhouse  to  teach  and  catechize  the  children. 
He  asked  the  master  of  the  family  if  all  were  assem- 
bled :  "All,"  answered  the  farmer,  "except  the  little 

i 

girl  who  attends  to  the  cattle."  "  Call  her,"  said  the 
minister ;  and  he  postponed  the  catechizing  till  she 
came  in.  Each  one  was  questioned  in  turn  until  the 
little  girl  was  asked :  "Have  you  a  soul  ?"  "  No  !" 
she  replied,  in  a  slow,  serious  tone.  "  Have  you 
never  had  a  soul?"  asked  the  minister.  "Yes, 
said  the  child.  "  What  became  of  it  ?"  "  One  day 
said  she,  "  lately,  while  attending  the  cattle,  my  soul 
felt  sad  and  troubled  as  I  thought  of  my  sinfulness 
and  of  what  Jesus  has  done  for  me  ;  I  wept  and 
prayed,  and  I  gave  up  that  soul  and  all  its  affections 
to  Jesus."  This  touching  anecdote  of  a  child  well 
illustrates  our  subject,  and  it  will  be  a  happy  day  for 
us  when  we  can  each  say  with  that  simple,  trusting 
child,  "  I  have  given  my  soul  to  Jesus."  What  think 
ye  of  Christ  ?  Depend  upon  it,  it  is  a  most  searching, 
deep,  vital  question  ;  it  probes  the  inmost  recesses  of 
our  hearts,  and  upon  the  answer  we  give  to  it  must 
depend  our  eternity. 


XVIII. 

While  the  Holy  Scriptures  contain  much  that  is 
plain  and  easy  to  be  comprehended  concerning  spe- 
cially our  present  needs  and  practical  duties,  it  must 
be  admitted  that  it  also  contains  much  that  is  mys- 
terious and  incomprehensible.     This  is  no  ground 
whatever    of    objection   to    Divine    revelation,   but 
rather  a  proof  of  the  truth  and  genuineness  of  the 
sacred  volume.     A  revelation  trom  God  which  treats 
of  the  nature  of  the  Divine  Being  and  of  the  future 
life  must  necessarily  treat  of  some  questions  which 
are  beyond  the  grasp  and  comprehension  of  finite 
beings  like  ourselves.     One  of  the  greatest  of  English 
preachers  has  said,  "  Give  me  the  majestic  cloud,  the 
oracular  veil,  the  mighty  shadows  which  recede  as 
we  advance,  filling  the  mind  with  amazement  and 
forbidding  us  to  approach  and  examine  what  they 
are.     I  wish  to  be  defeated  in  every  effort  to  under- 
stand   God  and   futurity.      I    wish   when    I    have 
climbed  to  the  highest  pinnacle  to  which  human 
thought  can  attain  to  be  compelled  to  confess  that 
I  have  not  reached  the  base  of  the  everlasting  hills.  " 
"  For  it  doth  not  yet  appear,  what  we  shall  be." 
137 


138  The  Hidden  Future. 

In  that  striking  picture  called  the  "Voyage  of 
Life,"  with  which  we  are  all  familiar,  the  artist 
represents  a  voyager  setting  out  in  his  youth  upon  a 
broad  and  beautiful  river  which  flows  on  amid 
lovely  and  enchanting  scenes.  As  his  bark  glides 
smoothly  along  he  beholds  the  green  and  attractive 
shores  reflected  in  inimitable  beauty  and  perfection 
in  those  still  waters.  Now  he  sees  the  distant  moun- 
tain-tops rising  one  above  another,  draped  with  the 
fleecy  cloud;  and,  now,  his  eye  rests  upon  quiet  val- 
leys reposing  in  all  their  loveliness  in  the  shadows 
below.  All  is  beautiful  and  enchanting  now  to  the 
young  voyager.  But  there  are  darker  shades  in  the 
picture  beyond.  Far  down  that  river  on  whose 
smooth  surface  there  plays  not  a  single  ripple— oh ! 
how  many  a  sharp  rock,  how  many  a  foaming  and 
dashing  cataract,  how  many  a  dangerous  whirlpool 
are  in  his  way;  and  before  he  is  aware  of  it  he  may 
be  entangled  in  extreme  perils,  and  his  boat  be 
hurled  upon  those  which  lurk  in  the  cold  black  waters. 
Is  there  not  here  presented  a  true  and  life-like  pict- 
ure of  man's  moral  and  spiritual  history?  The 
Christian  sets  out  on  the  voyage  to  eternity  with  fair 
prospects  before  him,  each  object  and  scene  painted 
by  his  youthful  fancy  in  dazzling  colors.  But  how 
soon  the  whole  scene  changes  !    How  many  a  dash- 


The  Hidden  Future.  139 

ing  breaker  of  temptation,  how  many  a  tempest  of 
affliction  lies  concealed  beneath  the  surface  of  that 
river;  and  if  by  the  aid  of  God's  heavenly  grace,  the 
young  voyager  does  escape  spiritual  shipwreck,  and 
rises  up  bruised  and  saddened,  how  soon  does  he 
encounter  another  spiritual  conflict  and  another 
sharp  trial.  Thus  is  it  in  spiritual  things.  A  hidden 
and  mysterious  future  lies  before  us.  "  We  know 
not  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow." 

1.  Let  us  endeavor  to  justify  this  plan  of  God — this 
hiding  of  the  future.    This  arrangement  of  our  heav- 
enly Father  betokens  His  matchless  wisdom  as  well 
as  His  love  and  mercy.   It  is  a  plan  carefully  adapted 
to  our  weak  and  finite  nature ;   and  calculated  to 
develop  the  heavenly  graces  of  patience  and  faith. 
We  should  be  thankful  to  the  Almighty  Father  that 
He  hides  the  hereafter  and  throws  over  future  events 
a  veil  of  secrecy.    For,  suppose  for  example,  the  mer- 
chant knew  beforehand  that  at  some  precise,  fixed 
unhappy  day  his  business  would  be  involved  in  bank- 
ruptcy and  ruin,  how  would  that  painful  impression 
take  away  at  once  all  zest  and  interest  in  it  ?     What 
a  gloomy  aspect  would  this  prevision  throw  over  all 
his    employments?     If  we    knew    beforehand   the 
future,  who  would  enter  on  the  marriage-state,  with 
the  precise   and  infallible    certainty  that  at  some 


140  The  Hidden  Future. 

definite  day  just  such  a  death  would  enter  his  happy 
home  and  lay  its  icy  touch  on  his  beloved  wife  or 
his  little  ones,  knowing  all  the  while  the  day 
appointed  in  which  he  would  behold  the  painful  scene 
of  those  dear  to  him  suffering  by  accident  or  sharp 
disease  in  agony  and  deadly  pain  ?  How  would  such 
an  impression  unhinge  and  break  up  the  fabric  of 
human  society.  If,  too,  the  future  were  made  known, 
what  room  would  there  be  for  the  exercise  of  trust 
and  endurance  and  the  strength  of  cahn  resignation  ? 
It  is  just  this  impenetrable  darkness  of  the  future 
which  prevents  men  from  sinking  down  into  discour- 
agement and  despair.  While  hope  paints  the  days 
to  come  with  happy  resting  places,  man  rises  up  with 
new  courage  and  pursues  his  favorite  calling ;  and  so> 
it  is  with  the  Christian  pilgrim.  He  does  not  faint 
nor  fall  by  the  way ;  he  looks  forward  to  the  future 
—the  unclouded  vision  of  God— the  thrones  and 
starry  crowns  of  the  righteous,  upheld  by  faith  and 
hope ;  and  he  patiently  perseveres  to  the  end,  adopt- 
ing as  his  motto : 

"  Onward !  for  the  glorious  prize, 
Onward  yet, 
Bright  and  clear  before  thine  eyes 
In  the  homeward  path- way  lies; 
Rest  is  not  beneath  the  skies, 
Onward  yet. 


The  Hidden  Future.  141 

Tarry  not :  around  thy  way 
Danger  lies :  oh !  fear  to  stny  : 
Rouse  then,  Christian,  watch  and  pray, 
Onward  yet!" 

2.  In  regard  to  the  future  after  death,  and  also 
in  regard  to  the  state  of  the  redeemed  in  heaven,  it 
is  still  true  that  the  future  is  hidden.  Oh !  how 
many  a  man  has  sat  down — and  of  women,  many 
more — Sat  down  beside  the  couch  of  a  sick  and  dear 
friend,  and  beheld  with  most  intense  solicitude 
the  dying  out  of  life's  taper  !  You  have  watched  the 
spirit  about  to  depart  as  it  plumed  its  flight  to  the 
realms  of  upper-day ;  you  have  looked  into  the  now 
cold  and  lifeless  face,  and  has  not  your  heart  longed 
to  know  what  could  be  the  precise  condition  of  that 
liberated  spirit  ?  "Oh,"  you  have  said  to  yourself, 
"if  my  friend  could  only  come  back  for  a  moment 
and  tell  me  his  experience.  Where  art  thou  ?  Art 
thou  holding  blessed  communion  with  spiritual  and 
immortal  intelligences  in  that  wonder-realm  whither 
thou  hast  gone  ?  Dost  thou  ever  look  back  on  those 
earthly  scenes  with  which  thou  wast  once  familiar, 
and  sympathize  in  the  toils  and  struggles  and  trials 
of  those  thou  didst  leave  still  in  this  lower  world  ? 
What  is  the  nature  of  that  rest  with  which  those 
who  die  in  the  Lord  are  blessed  ?"    These  and  such 


142  The  Hidden  Future. 

like  questions,  how  often  how  anxiously  have  they 
crossed  our  minds.  But,  no  answer  comes  back 
from  those  pale  cold  lips.  No  answer,  did  I  say  ? 
Yes  !  we  have  the  words  of  the  Apostle,  which  seem 
to  roll  back  like  distant  music  upon  our  listening 
hearts  :  "Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and 
it  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be,  but  we  know 
that  when  He  shall  appear  we  shall  be  like  Him  for 
we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is."  We  shall  be  like  Him, 
like  Christ;  is  not  that  enough  ?  Let  us  be  content 
that  the  future  is  hidden  from  our  sight  and  revealed 
but  partially  even  to  our  faith,  and  let  us  persevere 
unto  the  end,  if  such  deep  and  unutterable  bliss  shall 
be  ours  at  the  last. 


XIX. 

What  a    dreary    and    desolate  scene  would  the 
world  be  without  hope  !    As  a  principle  of  our  nature 
acting  upon  us  in  regard  to  matters  pertaining  to  the 
present  life,  hope  often  exerts  a  most  magical  influ- 
ence over  the  mind.    How  it  lifts  the  soul  upward  from 
the  darkened  scenes  of  earthly  calamity  to  brighter 
worlds  of  its  own  creation  decked  with  flowers  and 
bright  with  smiling  faces.     How  it  draws  pictures  of 
ecstatic  joy  and  paints  gay  visions  of  future  bliss 
before    the    youthful    imagination — visions,     alas ! 
which  are  often  never  realized.     How  it  whispers  of 
health  to  the  sick  man,  of  better  and  happier  days 
to  the  downcast.    How  it  breathes  its  sweet  music  into 
the  ear  of  decrepid  and  frozen  old  age.     Yes,  earthly 
hope  alone  is  a  mighty  principle  ;  and  it  is  not  possible 
for  any  earthly  calamity  to  crush  down  utterly  the 
human  spirit  so  long  as  a  single    spark  of   hope 
remains  to  arouse  and  gladden  it.     Take  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  power  of  hope.     Yonder  within  the  huge 
massive  stone  walls  of  a  prison  is  a  prisoner's  dark 
cell.     In  that  cell  is  confined  one  of  the  most  desper- 
143 


Ill  Hope. 

ate  and  hardened  of  criminals.  There  he  is  bound  by 
chains  to  the  hard  floor,  and  seldom  a  ray  of  light 
gleams  through  the  narrow  grating  of  his  window  ! 
and  yet  hope  is  there  as  a  white  robed  angel  by  that 
wretched  man's  cot.  She  keeps  her  watch  fires 
burning.  There  he  sits  in  his  lonely  cell,  day  after 
day  and  week  after  week,  the  prey  of  his  own  evil 
thoughts  and  haunted  by  the  specters  of  his  own 
guilty  imagination.  But,  suppose  you  bring  the 
power  of  hope  actively  to  bear  upon  that  wretched 
man.  Suppose  you  succeed  in  convincing  him  that  by 
some  means  the  door  of  his  prison  will  yet  be  flung 
open  and  his  eyes  be  permitted  to  greet  the  cheerful 
light  of  day  !  How  quickly  would  you  dispel  from 
that  haggard  face  the  look  of  gloom  and  light  it  up 
with  smiles  !  Why,  the  bare  mention  of  deliverance 
would  then  be  enough  to  make  that  wretched  man's 
heart  leap  with  gladness.  What  cares  he  now,  think 
you,  for  the  gloom  of  his  prison  and  the  chains  that 
bind  him  so  long  as  Hope  with  her  magic  pencil  paints 
that  enrapturing  vision  of  liberty  on  his  dark  prison 
wrall  ?  4 

In  the  year  1663,  Vienna,  the  capital  of  Austria, 
was  besieged  by  a  large  army  of  the  Turks,  who  now 
stood  just  before  the  gates.  As  soon  as  the  approach 
of  this  hostile  force  was  made  known,  the  Emperor 


Hope.  145 

fled  from  the  city.  What  were  the  poor  people 
within  its  walls  to  do  ?  Without  a  leader  they  were 
left  in  a  state  of  sad  fear  and  perplexity.  The  cry  of 
distress  arose,  "  What  shall  we  do  ?"  At  last  a  thought 
of  hope  came  into  their  minds.  "  The  king  of  Poland, 
John  Sobieski,  he  is  our  friend  and  will  help  us." 
A  messenger  was  instantly  sent  entreating  him  to 
come  to  their  rescue.  But  there  was  only  one  way 
for  him  to  come,  and  that  was  a  long  distance  over 
the  great  Xorthern  mountains.  It  was  a  weary  and 
anxious  time  :  for  the  siege  began  in  July  and  lasted 
until  some  time  in  the  following  September.  But 
these  people  never  despaired.  They  still  hoped  on 
and  hoped  on ;  and  by  and  by,  as  they  looked  out 
upon  the  distant  mountain  tops  they  saw  far  away 
the  brave  Poles  marching  to  their  rescue.  And  they 
did  rescue  them,  for  that  very  day  after  a  bloody  and 
desperate  battle  Vienna  was  set  free.  Such  is  the 
power  of  earthly  hope.  But  we  propose  now  to 
speak  of  Christian  hope,  which  is  as  much  higher 
and  grander  in  its  character  and  results  than  earthly 
hope  as  eternity  is  more  lasting  than  time.  We  will 
proceed  to  state  some  two  or  three  grounds  of  the 
great  superiority  of  Christian  over  worldly  hope.  And 
First.  Christian  hope  has  an  unspeakably  better 
object  in  view. 


146  Hope. 

What  are  the  objects  of  earthly  hope  ?  Every  man 
has  some  favorite  object  of  pursuit ;  it  may  be  fame, 
riches,  honor  ;  but  whatever  it  be,  he  cannot  reach 
his  prize  without  a  hard  struggle.  He  must  contest 
his  way  in  life  against  many  obstacles,  perhaps  amid 
worldly  disappointments,  domestic  trials,  and  well- 
nigh  crushing  adversities.  But  at  length  he  is 
successful,  and  secures  the  object  of  his  earthly 
ambition.  Is  he  satisfied  ?  Are  his  golden  dreams  of 
happiness  realized  ?  Is  it  not  after  all  grasping  a 
shadow  ?  You  pass  by  a  stately  mansion,  and 
through  the  half -drawn  curtains  you  see  the  rich 
furniture  and  brilliant  ornaments  within  ;  in  that 
dwelling  a  sumptuous  table  is  spread  with  every 
luxury  that  wealth  can  procure  ;  the  cheerful  evening 
firelight  flashes  on  costly  vessels  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  its  inmates  tread  those  halls  which  are  covered 
with  soft  velvet  carpets  :  "  Oh  !  how  happy,"  says 
one,  "must  those  favored  persons  be  who  live  in  such 
a  splendid  mansion."  But  wait  a  few  years  and  now 
enter  that  house  again.  Where  are  now  the  gay  and 
happy  faces  that  once  occupied  those  grand  apart- 
ments ?  The  rich  owner  once  had  a  wife  and  beautiful 
daughter  ;  she  possessed  every  grace  and  accomplish- 
ment ;  she  was  the  idol  of  his  heart,  the  pride  and 
ornament  of  his  home  ;  he  thought  of  her  when  he 


Hope.  147 

was  building  that  splendid  mansion  ;  she  was  even 
dearer  to  him  than  his  bank-stock  ;  and  he  was  fondly 
anticipating  a  day  when  she  would  grow  up  by  his 
side  as  a  noble  vine  to  cheer  and  gladden  his  old  age. 
But  now,  alas  !  she  is  gone,  and  with  grey  locks, 
careworn  looks  and  tottering  limbs,  he  is  going  down 
to  the  narrow  house  appointed  for  all  living. 

Such  is  the  object  and  end  of  earthly  hope.  It 
weaves  a  bright  future.  It  holds  out  a  dazzling  prize, 
which  in  the  end  changes  to  a  bitter  disappointment. 

Now  turn  to  the  other  side  and  see  what  are  the 
objects  of  Christian  hope.  How  vastly  superior  the 
latter  to  the  former  !  The  Christian  believer  struggles 
on  beset  with  temptations  and  difficulties,  but  he 
gathers  strength  and  courage  as  he  goes  forward 
facing  life's  trials.  Why  ?  Because  he  has  a  most 
glorious  object  in  view,  his  eye  is  directed  to  the 
mansions  of  the  living  God  where  "  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling  and  the  weary  are  at  rest."  He 
endures  as  Saint  Paul  did,  "seeing  Him  Who  is 
invisible,"  and  he  "hath  respect  unto  the  recom- 
pense of  the  reward."  He  can  say  with  that  same 
Apostle,  "we  know  that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this 
tabernacle  be  dissolved,  we  have  a  building  of  God, 
a  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens. " 
This  is  hope,  sure  and  certain,  which  embraces  within 


148  Hope. 

its  view  the  infinite  and  the  immortal ;  and  surely  it 
evidences  the  superiority  of  Christian  over  earthly 
hope. 

2d.  But  another  reason  of  this  superiority  is  that 
Christian  hope  has  a  better  basis  to  rest  upon.  Did 
you  ever  stand  upon  the  surf -beaten  shore  and  wait 
for  the  massive  waves  to  roll  in,  threatening  the 
sandy  foundation  on  which  you  stood  ?  Did  you  ever 
wake  up  on  some  winter  morning  and  see  the  earth 
sown  with  pearls,  and  every  tree  and  bush,  as  it  were, 
hung  with  sparkling  diamonds,  and  then  look  out  an 
hour  or  two  after  and  behold  all  this  magnificent  scene 
dissipated  by  the  sun's  rays  ?  Does  not  this  well  repre- 
sent earthly  hope's  uncertainty  ?  Now  it  is  not  thus 
with  Christian  hope.  "  Our  hope,"  says  an  eminent 
Divine,  '  is  not  hung  upon  such  an  untwisted  thread 
as  :  'I  imagine  so,'  'it  is  very  probable,'  'you  may 
expect  so-and-so,'  but  the  strong  rope  of  our  fastened 
anchor  is  the  oath  and  promise  of  Him  Who  is  eternal 
verity."  "  Wherein  God,"  says  the  Apostle,  "  willing 
more  abundantly  to  show  unto  the  heirs  of  promise 
the  immutability  of  His  counsel,  confirmed  it  by  an 
oath  ;  that  by  two  immutable  things  in  which  it  was 
impossible  for  God  to  lie,  we  might  have  a  strong 
consolation  who  have  fled  for  refuge  to  lay  hold  upon 
the  hope  set  before  us  in  the  Gospel ;  which  hope  we 


Hope.  149 

have  as  an  anchor  of  the  soul,  both  sure  and  stead- 
fast." Can  you  imagine  any  stronger  basis  than  this 
on  which  Christian  hope  rests  ?  This  is  the  immova- 
ble rock  on  which  the  Christian's  hope  is  founded,  the 
sure  word  and  promise  of  Almighty  God  ;  a  rock  on 
which  the  believer  can  stand  secure,  and  against 
which  the  waves  of  doubt  and  despair  dash  in  vain. 
It  stands 

"As  some  tall  cliff  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 
Swells  from  the  Yale  and  midway  leaves  the  storm, 
Though  round  its  breast  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Eternal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head.'' 

3d.  Christian  hope  is  vastly  superior  to  worldly 
hope  in  the  results  to  which  it  leads.  I  would  not 
be  understood  to  decry  earthly  hope.  It  is  a  gift  and 
blessing  for  which  we  ought  to  be  thankful  to  God. 
"  It  is,"  says  a  writer  "  one  of  those  beautiful  frag- 
ments of  statuary  left  undestroyed  by  sin,  and  found 
among  the  ruins  of  man's  fallen  temple,  and  it  only 
shows  how  fair  and  glorious  must  have  been  the 
original  structure  when  it  came  from  the  hands  of 
the  great  Architect."  It  is  one  of  the  noblest  relics 
of  the  fall.  God  be  thanked  that  it  continues  still  to 
live  on  in  this  dark  world.  It  is  the  parent  of  many 
noble  deeds  and  heroic  struggles.  But  we  must  not 
forget  that  earthly  hope  expires  at  the  grave. 


150  Hope. 

What  can  it  do  for  us  in  our  last  hour  ?  Shall  it 
bring  its  allurements  and  fascination  and  try  to 
turn  our  heart  away  from  that  sadness  ?  Alas  ! 
We  have  been  misled  too  long  by  it  to  be  deceived 
then.  The  soul  turns  away  from  the  objects  of 
earthly  hope,  that  once  dazzled  and  entrapped  it  in 
the  days  of  health,  when  the  world  was  gay  and  a 
thousand  lights  were  blazing ;  and  it  reaches  forth 
toward  Christian  hope,  which  is  born  of  true  faith, 
inspired  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  built  upon  the  cross 
of  Christ.  Such  a  hope  alone  can  sustain  us  and 
make  for  our  souls  a  safe  passage  to  the  land  of 
blessedness  and  rest.  Oh!  how  many  thousands  on  the 
earth  and  what  countless  multitudes  in  Paradise  have 
set  their  seal  to  the  truth  of  these  words  of  Holy 
Scripture :  ' '  The  hope  of  the  righteous  shall  be  glad- 
ness ;"  "  blessed  is  the  man  whose  hope  the  Lord  is." 


XX. 


The  famous  banquet  of  Belshazzar  marked  the 
downfall  of  the  ancient  and  mighty  city  of  Babylon, 
centre  of  that  great  empire  that  once  ruled  the  world. 

That  renowned  city  had  around  it  a  circuit  of  walls 
fifty  miles  in  length  and  three  hundred  feet  high.  It 
had  two  hundred  and  fifty  towers  and  one  hundred 
and  forty  gates  of  brass  which  bade  defiance  to  the 
battering  ram  and  all  other  enginery  of  war. 
Besides,  it  had  its  hanging  garden  suspended  nearly 
four  hundred  feet  in  the  air — loaded  with  shrubs 
and  waving  trees;  and  numerous  sparkling  fountains 
leaped  from  beneath  the  floral  arches.  The  haughty 
monarch, Belshazzar,  as  he  walked  the  balcony  of  his 
palace,  looked  out  upon  a  scene  of  grandeur.  The 
massive  structures  of  art  lay  piled  one  above  another 
and  the  brilliant  sunshine  was  reflected  back  from 
the  silver  waters  of  the  Euphrates. 

It  is  night.     The  shadows  of  evening  are  gathering 

over  the  magnificent  city.     The  air  is  soft  and  clear, 
151 


152  Belshazzafs  Feast. 

while  crowds  of  gaily  dressed  men  and  women  are 
hurrying  through  those  lighted  streets,  some  pressing 
into  theaters,  some  into  galleries  of  art,  while  others 
still  are  moving  on  toward  the  palace  gates.  What 
is  appearing  there?  The  king  has  prepared  a  royal 
feast  in  honor  of  his  own  imperial  sway  and  great- 
ness. Thousands  are  moving  on  toward  the  scene 
of  the  royal  banquet.  Look  at  the  splendid  banquet  - 
room!  How  gorgeous!  Column  after  column,  arch 
above  arch,  long  glittering  corridors.  See  the  statues 
of  great  men  looking  down  from  their  pedestals;  see 
the  costly  hangings,  the  gay  garlands,  the  rich  orna- 
ments, all  combining  to  form  such  a  dazzling  scene 
as  the  earth  never  saw  before.  And  now  comes  in 
the  king  himself,  with  a  thousand  of  his  lords.  The 
hall  is  lighted  with  golden  candlesticks.  The  table  is 
spread  with  every  conceivable  luxury.  Princes  and 
nobles  are  there  ;  women  dressed  with  the  most 
costly  apparel  and  bedecked  with  the  rarest  jewels 
grace  the  scene.  When  all  are  seated,  the  command 
goes  forth,  "Fill  up  the  golden  goblets  ;  let  the  rich 
perfume  rise  thickly  from  the  censers;  raise  the  loud 
and  merry  laugh  and  let  enrapturing  bursts  of  music 
be  heard  through  all  the  place."  From  thousands  of 
lips  of  riotous  guests  there  proceeds  the  cry,  "Oh! 
thou  mighty  potentate,   live  forever!"    The    feast 


Belshazzar's  Feast.  15$ 

is  at  its  height.  "Wilder  and  still  wilder  grows  the 
tumult;  louder  and  still  louder  ring  the  shouts  of 
laughter,  insane  mirth  and  drunken  song.  Then 
suddenly  there  is  a  pause  in  that  high  revelry,  sud- 
denly that  company  of  feasters  and  guests  cease 
their  mirth.  The  startled  monarch  Belshazzar  turns 
pale,  and  the  untasted  goblet  falls  from  his  lips.  The 
women  stand  aghast,  or  fall  fainting  upon  the  marble 
floor.  What  is  the  cause  of  this?  Is  it  a  ghostly 
visitant  that  has  come  to  terrify  the  haughty  mon- 
arch and  his  careless  friends?  jSTo,  there  is  a  myster- 
ious hand-writing  on  the  wall.  What  is  it?  The 
terrified  and  guilty  monarch  calls  for  Daniel  the 
prophet,  to  come  in  and  interpret  the  ominous  writ- 
ing. Daniel  obeys  the  summons.  His  inspired 
vision  scans  the  future,  and  he  foretells  the  doom  of 
that  proud  and  wicked  city,  under  the  fearful  judge- 
ment of  a  just  God,  whose  laws  the  king  had  set  at 
defiance.  The  sentence  was  written  in  letters  of  fire 
on  the  walls  of  the  banquet-room,  "Mene,  Mene, 
Tekel,  Upharsin."  "Thou  art  weighed  in  the  bal- 
ances, and  art  found  wanting." 

We  will  now  close  the  doors  of  that  grand  palace; 
we  will  not  detail  the  scene  of  that  terrible  night'& 
slaughter,  nor  picture  the  gorgeous  apartment  so  lately 
filled  with  merry  guests,  now  filled  with  the  bodies- 


t 
154  Belshazzar's  Feast. 


of  the  slain,  the  king  himself  among  them.  Let  us 
draw  a  veil  over  such  a  terrible  scene,  and  yet  try  to 
gather  a  few  lessons  from  it. 

1st.  It  teaches  that  irreligion,  impiety  and  infidelity 
will  surely  work  a  nation's  downfall.  When  a  peo- 
ple cast  off  the  fear  of  Almighty  God,  set  at  defiance 
His  righteous  law,  and  become  corrupt,  profligate 
and  sensual,  not  recognizing  a  Supreme  Being  or 
-their  responsibility  to  Him,  but  desecrating  His 
Sabbaths;  or  when  they  become  worshippers  of  false 
Gods,  and  not  only  so,  but  cast  contempt  and  ridi- 
cule upon  the  God  of  their  forefathers,  then  their 

downfall  is  near. 

Belshazzar  was  not  ignorant.  He  had  opportuni- 
ties of  knowing  God's  will.  He  had  seen  the  awful 
judgement  of  heaven  which  befell  Nebuchadnezzar 
before  him,  for  his  idolatry  and  impiety;  and  yet,  in 
spite  of  the  laws  of  God  and  the  dictates  of  conscience, 
irreverently  and  blasphemously  he  sets  religion  aside. 
Let  any  nation  do  this;  let  any  nation  devote  itself 
to  pride  and  mammon  and  vanity, and  it  needs  not  now 
a  prophet  to  predict  that  nation's  doom,  for  all  his- 
tory teaches  it.  The  city  may  seem  impregnable, 
and  fitted  to  defy  all  human  assaults.  It  may  have 
tried  soldiers,  sagacious  legislators,  prosperous  trades, 
far-reaching  commerce;  but  if  it  tramples  on  the 


Belshazzar's  Feast.  155 

divine  law  and  seeks  earthly  good,  earthly  aggran- 
dizement only, that  nation  will  fall,  and  over  its  appall- 
ing ruin  will  be  written,  as  in  letters  of  fire:     "  Thou 
are  weighed  in  the  balances,  and  art  found  wanting." 
2d.  We  may  learn  another  lesson  from  this  narra- 
tive, viz :  that  it  is  the  duty  of  God's  ministers  boldly 
to  expose  and  rebuke  sin  and  worldliness.     At  that 
critical  moment  when  the  feast  had  reached  its  high- 
est splendor  and  all  hearts  were  aglow — and,  then, 
shortly  after,  when  a  thrill  of  horror  rushed  through 
•every  soul,   and    when    the  king    himself  became 
alarmed,  so  that  in  the  language  of  the  Sacred  Word, 
"his  countenance  was  changed,  and  his  thoughts 
troubled  him;  the  joints  of  his  loins  were  loosed,  and 
his  knees    smote  the  one  against  the    other,"  he 
sends  for  the  astrologers  and  asks  them  to  explain 
the  meaning  of  the  inscription   on  the  wall.     But 
when  they  could  not  explain  it,  blank  terror  seized 
the  mind  of  the  king  and  the  minds  of  his  courtiers. 
What  is  now  to  be  done?    Presently  a  woman,  calm, 
dignified,   resolute,   suggests  the  person  who  shall 
solve    the    difficulty — Daniel   the    prophet,   a  man 
gifted  by   God   with  a  superhuman  wisdom.     The 
king  sends  for  him,  and  Daniel  comes  in,  and  with  a 
boldness  and  a  decision  worthy  of  his  high  position, 
unfolds  before  the  trembling  monarch  his  crimes.    It 


156  Belshazzar's  Feast, 

would  have  been  far  pleasanter  to  have  extolled  the 
king  and  joined  the  multitudes  in  their  vain  adula- 
tion. But  Daniel  knew  that  he  had  a  duty  to  dis- 
charge, and  that  such  a  course  would  give  him  only 
a  momentary  popularity,  and  at  the  cost  of  compro- 
mising his  principles  and  offending  his  conscience. 
So  it  is  often  the  duty  of  Christ's  ministers  to 
denounce  sin  and  rebuke  iniquity.  Let  them  not 
fear,  but  rather  imitate  the  example  of  Daniel. 
Daniel  did  not  thrust  himself  unbidden  into  the  palace 
of  Belshazzar;  he  came  when  bidden,  and  did  his  duty 
as  a  servant  and  prophet  of  the  Most  High.  He  had 
a  firm  trust  in  God,  and  God  was  his  protection  and 
reward. 


XXI. 

We  have  often  noticed  some  thick  green  hedge 
enclosing,  it  may  be,  a  lawn,  a  garden,  a  dwelling, 
and  forming  a  compact  wall  of  protection  and 
beauty.  As  that  hedge  surrounds  and  protects  the 
fruits  and  flowers  of  the  garden  and  adds  to  its 
loveliness,  so  does  God  surround  each  one  of  us  with 
various  moral  barriers  and  restraints  to  protect  us 
from  harm  and  danger,  and  make  our  life  righteous; 
and  these  may  not  inappropriately  be  termed  "the 
Divine  hedges."  Let  us  proceed  in  this  brief  letter 
to  enumerate  some  of  them  : 

1st.  There  is  the  hedge  of  conscience.  This  has 
been  well  termed  God's  viceroy  over  the  realm  of  the 
human  spirit.  It  always  registers  a  faithful  verdict 
upon  every  action  of  our  lives.  It  is  a  monitor 
within  reach  of  us  which  asserts  its  right  to  over- 
rule taste,  caprice,  interest.  It  commends  the  good 
and  warns  us  of  the  evil.  Whoever  swerves  from 
the  path  of  duty  or  follows  the  dictates  of  his  own 

157 


158  Divine  Hedges. 

evil  passions  and  desires,  and  ventures  for  the  sake 
of  ease  and  sinful  indulgence  to  walk  in  ways  which 
end  in  ruin  and  perdition,  whoever  does  this  does 
it,  you  may  rest  assured,  against  loud  and  constant 
accusations  from  within.  He  may  smother  this 
voice  for  a  time,  may  disregard  the  laws  of  God,  and 
go  in  the  path  of  sin  ;  but  let  him  not  think  that  con- 
science will  always  sleep.  No.  This  Divine  moni- 
tor within  will  always  awake  to  fulfill  its  office.  It 
will  pierce  through  the  thick  walls  of  his  fancied 
security,  and  in  tones  which  shall  startle  and  alarm 
and  rebuke  him  for  his  misdoing  and  folly.  Look 
for  example  at  the  case  of  the  prodigal  son.  When 
far  away  in  that  distant  land,  in  a  state  of  poverty 
and  want,  his  splendid  apparel  exchanged  for 
squalid  rags,  instead  of  the  rich  dainties  of  his 
father's  house  eating  the  husks  which  the  swine  ate, 
as  his  thoughts  went  back  to  the  old  happy  scenes 
of  home,  how  did  conscience  smite  him  with  its  loud 
and  unsparing  accusations  !  With  what  thorns  did 
it  fill  every  pillow  where  he  would  fain  rest  his 
weary  head,  until  he  resolved  to  arise  and  go  to  his 
father,  confess  his  sin  and  plead  for  forgiveness  !  Or, 
look  at  the  case  of  Joseph's  brethren.  When  they 
from  love  of  gain  and  envy  sold  that  lovely  boy  into 
the  hands  of  the  Ishmaelites,   and  took  back  the 


Divine  Hedges,  159 

coat  of  many  colors  to  their  father,  covered  with 
stains  of  blood,  and  the  old  man  was  bowed  down 
with  grief  over  the  sad  fate  of  the  darling  of  his 
heart,   was    conscience    asleep,   think    you,   in    the 
breasts  of  those  cruel  men  ?    They  thought,  doubt- 
less, this  was  an  end  of  the  matter.     But  it  was 
not   so.     During    all  the  successive   steps  of    that 
wonderful  boy's  history,  from  the  day  when  he  left 
his  father's  tents,  until  he  was  finally  invested  with 
the  chief  power  in  Egypt,  next  to  the  King,   con- 
science was   busy  rebuking  those  men ;  and  when 
they  came  down  to  buy  corn  for  their   famished 
households,  and  Joseph,  then  raised  to  such  great 
dignity,   made    himself    known   to    them,    saying  : 
"I  am  Joseph;  doth  my  father  yet  live  ?"— words 
which  could  not  have  been  less  astonishing  to  them 
than  if  the  earth  itself  had  opened  beneath  their 
feet — Oh  !  then  how  must  conscience  have  smitten 
them,  filled  their  hearts  with  shame  and  remorse, 
and  painted  their  guilt  before  them  !    We  cannot  but 
see  what  a  powerful  hedge,  what  a  mighty  wall  of 
protection  the    Almighty  has    placed    around    our 
pathway  in  this  one  attribute  of  conscience. 

2d.  Another  is  those  emotions  of  pleasure  which 
follow  upright  conduct  and  deeds  of  charity. 
Virtue  and  goodness  are  in  their  nature  joy-pro- 


160  Divine  Hedges. 

ducing.  Did  any  one  ever  hear  of  a  man  who  had 
done  a  good  or  benevolent  deed  repenting  of  it  ?  Sup- 
pose, for  instance,  you  were  standing  upon  the  deck 
of  a  vessel  at  sea,  and  there  stood  by  your  side  a 
mother  with  her  bright  and  beautiful  boy  in  her  arms, 
and  she  were  by  unhappy  accident  to  drop  that  boy 
into  the  water,  and  you  instantly,  with  a  noble  disre- 
gard of  self,  plunge  over  the  ship's  side  and  rescue 
the  child  from  a  watery  grave  and  restore  it  to  its 
mother's  arms,  would  you  not  reap  a  rich  reward, 
not  only  in  the  overflowing  gratitude  of  that  mother, 
but  also  in  the  feelings  of  your  own  heart  ?  There  is 
no  good  action  without  its  harvest  of  rejoicing  in  the 
doer's  own  soul. 

You  sit  down  with  a  child  in  a  Sunday-school,  and 
endeavor  to  impress  upon  its  young  mind  the  truths 
of  our  holy  religion,  to  teach  that  young  susceptible 
heart  the  love  of  Jesus,  the  beauty  of  holiness,  the 
happiness  of  heaven;  and  you  are  more  than  paid  for 
the  labor  in  the  consciousness  of  good  attempted,  if 
not  also  of  great  good  done.  And  so,  of  all  righteous- 
ness and  charity  in  our  lives. 

3d.  Another  "  Divine  hedge"  is  to  be  found  in  the 
Church  of  God.  What  can  be  more  admirably  fitted 
to  train  men  in  the  way  of  holiness  and  keep  them 
from  the  evil  that  is  in  the  world  than  this  ?    The 


Divine  Hedges.  161 

Sunday  services  and  devotions,  the  sermons  preached, 
the  prayers  offered,  the  hymns  sung,  the  Sacraments 
received — what  a  mighty  influence  do  these  exert 
upon  us  ?  Philip  Henry  said,  of  a  well-spent  Sab- 
hath  :  "If  this  be  not  the  way  to  heaven,  I  know 
not  what  is." 

It  is  by  the  Church  that  the  infant  is  brought  into 
the  family  of  God  through  holy  baptism.  It  is  here 
that  he  receives  his  early  religious  training,  and  that 
precious  seed  is  sown  in  the  young  heart  which  will 
ripen  into  a  future  glorious  harvest.  It  is  here  that 
he  comes  to  renew  in  confirmation  the  baptismal  vow. 
Oh  !  how  many  tender,  solemn,  and  powerful  associ- 
ations centre  around  the  Church  of  God  !  how  many 
sweet,  never-dying  memories  of  Sunday  privileges 
centre  here  !  Coleridge  once  remarked :  "  I  feel  as  if 
God,  by  giving  us  the  Sabbath,  has  given  us  fifty-two 
springs  of  spiritual  life  and  comfort  in  every  year." 
When  we  think  of  the  mighty  influence  for  good 
which  the  Church  exerts,  how  it  guards  and  protects 
the  spiritual  character  of  its  members  from  childhood 
to  old  age,  presides  at  the  birth,  the  bridal,  the  burial, 
we  can  but  look  upon  it  as  one  of  the  strong  hedges 
which  God  has  thrown  around  us  to  guard  us  from 
evil  and  conduct  us  at  last  to  our  heavenly  home. 


162  Divine  Hedges. 

4th.  Still  another  hedge  placed  about  us  by  a  Divine 
hand — adversity,  affliction,  trial. 

"Whence  come  afflictions?  God's  Word  assures  us 
that  they  do  not  spring  from  the  ground — that  they 
are  part  of  the  necessary  discipline  which  is  to  fit  us 
for  another  and  higher  state  of  being.  Trials  are, 
indeed,  hard  to  bear.  It  is  no  easy  thing  to  see  the 
sweet  child  of  one's  love  pine  away  and  die.  It 
would  be  much  more  pleasant  to  us  to  enjoy  unin- 
terrupted ease  and  prosperity,  and  glide  along 
smoothly  upon  the  current  of  life,  lulled  by  the  soft 
music  of  its  waters.  But  God  Who  knows  better  than 
we,  puts  thorns  and  briers  into  our  present  downy 
nest  of  prosperity,  lest  we  sleep  the  sleep  of  spiritual 
death.  Afflictions  have  a  wise  end  in  view.  Even 
the  heathen,  Bion,  could  say,  "It  is  a  great  misfor- 
tune not  to  endure  misfortune."  Anaxagoras,  when 
his  house  was  in  ruin  and  his  estate  wasted,  exclaimed 
"  If  they  had  not  perished,  I  should  have  perished." 

5th.  Another  hedge  is  to  be  found  in  the  influences 
of  God's  blessed  Spirit.  He  acts  upon  our  hearts  and 
inclines  us  to  that  which  is  good.  He  takes  of  the 
things  of  Christ  and  shows  them  unto  us.  The  office 
of  the  Spirit  is  to  "convince  the  world,  of  sin,  of 
righteousness  and  of  judgement."    He  is  ever  draw- 


Divine  Hedges.  163 

ing  us  unto  the  fountain  of  living  waters,  ever  lead- 
ing  us    onward  and  upward.      Our   sanctification 
is  His  gift.     If  we  are  moved  to  righteous  living  it  is 
His  inspiration.     If  we  weary  not  in  well  doing  it 
is  His    strength.     Such  are  some  of  the  wonderful 
hedges  which  God  hath  placed  around  our  path  to 
protect  us  from  evil  and  bring  us  to  happiness  and 
peace.     And  if  this  be  true,  it  seems  to  enforce  the 
profound  doctrine  that  "God  is  love."    His  tender 
mercy  is   over  all  His  works.     He  willeth  not  the 
death  of  a  sinner,  but  rather  that  he  should  be  con- 
verted and  live.  Surely  our  wisdom  is  to  respect  these 
Divine  barriers  and  to  live  within  them.     Obey  the 
dictates  of  that  inward  monitor  and  guide,  the  con- 
science.    Know  by  happy  experience  the  pure  enjoy- 
ment which  accompanies  upright  conduct  and  loving 
deeds.     Prize  the  Church  of  God,  its  sweet  Sabbath 
privileges,  its  praises  and  prayers.     Regard  our  afflic- 
tions not  as  mere  accidents   and  mischances,   but, 
as  so  many  golden  links  in  the  chain  of  God's  love, 
designed  to  lift  us  from  this  present  scene  of  suffer- 
ing and  sorrow  to  the  untold  joys  and  splendor  of 
the  New  Jerusalem.     To  that  city  through  God's 
abounding  mercy  and  grace  may  we  at  length  come! 
There,   not  hedges  any  longer  but  freedom  in  the 


164  Divine  Hedges. 

truth  and  in  holy  obedient  love  forevermore.     Oh 
heavenly  Jerusalem! 

"  Thy  gardens  and  thy  goodly  walks 

Continually  are  green, 
Where  grow  such  sweet  and  pleasant  flowers 

As  nowhere  else  are  seen. 
Hight  through  thy  streets,  with  pleasing  sound, 

The  living  waters  flow, 
And  on  the  banks  on  either  side, 

The  trees  of  life  do  grow." 


XXII. 

The  transfiguration  of  Christ  is  one  of  the  most 
striking  and  marvellous  events  of  His  life  upon  the 
earth.  It  is  supposed  by  Biblical  scholars  to  have 
taken  place  on  Mount  Tabor  in  Galilee,  a  lofty  sum- 
mit, six  miles  east  of  Nazareth.  From  this  bold  ele- 
vation is  visible  the  Jordan,  winding  like  a  silver 
thread  through  the  valley  below ;  far  away  in  the 
north-west,  you  behold  the  shining  waters  of  the 
Mediterranean.  On  the  east,  you  see  the  quiet  sleep- 
ing Lake  of  Gennesaret ;  and,  in  the  distance, 
Hermon  with  its  snowy  peak,  and  Carmel  with  its 
ever-green  pine  and  venerable  oak.  This  was  the 
place  of  our  Blessed  Lord's  transfiguration.  Here 
it  was  that  there  occured  that  most  astonishing  and 
glorious  scene,  the  like  to  which  earth  had  never 
before  witnessed.  Let  us  for  a  moment  go  back  in 
time,  and  with  the  aid  of  the  light  to  be  gathered 
from  the  Scripture  narrative,  let  us  endeavor  to 
describe  this  wondrous  event.  It  is  near  the  dusk 
of  evening,  and  a  little  company  consisting  of  four 
persons  may  be  seen  leaving  their  quiet  homes  and 

165 


166  The   Transfiguration. 

taking  their  way  toward  that  mountain  of  which  we 
have  just  spoken.     One  of  them  is  Jesus  the  Divine 
Saviour.  Another  is  Peter,  the  impulsive  and  intrepid 
leader  of  the  twelve;  a  third  is  James  the  Apostle  ; 
and  the  fourth  John,  the  beloved  disciple,  the  Lord's 
most  constant  and  endeared  companion.     Onward 
this  little  band  press  their  way  toward  the  favored 
mountain  which  was  so  soon  to  be  crowned  with  its 
grand  scenes  and  wondrous   revelations.      As  they 
climb  up  the  steep,  rugged  pathway,  the  dim  twi- 
light deepens  into  denser  darkness  ;  the  lights  in  the 
distant  city  grow  dim,   and  in  the  still  evening  no 
sound  is  heard  but  the  wind  as  it  stirs  the  thick 
foliage,  or  the  rivulet  of  the  wilderness  as  it  dashes 
along  over  the  rocks.     The  journey  was  a  laborious 
one  ere  these  travelers  gained  the  desired  summit. 
Nearly  four  hundred  years  ago  the  immortal  Raphael 
after  long  care  and  industry  completed  his  grand 
picture  of  the  Transfiguration.     It  was  placed  in  St. 
Peter's,  Rome,  and  to  this  day  retains  its  wonderful 
and  impressive  beauty.     It  is  said  that  every  figure, 
every  expression  and  look,  every  color  and  shade  is 
as  perfect  and  life-like  as  when  drawn  by  the  artist's 
hand ;  and  if  the  painting  so  thrills  the  astonished 
beholder  what,  we  may  well  ask,  must  have  been 
the  event  itself  ? 


The   Transfiguration,  167 

Imagine  if  you  can,  the  scene:  The  Son  of  Mary; 
the  Carpenter  of  Nazareth;  the  Master  Who  had 
journeyed  with  His  disciples  through  Judea  and  Gal- 
ilee, and  submitted  Himself  to  continual  hardships 
and    privations— this  same  Jesus  is  now    changed 
before  their  eyes  into  a  Form  of  unearthly  brightness. 
Around  those  rough  worn  garments,  woven  without 
a  seam,  there  gathers  a  strange  radiance,  while  His 
countenance  gleams  with  celestial  splendor.     As  the 
evangelist  says,    "His  face  shone  as  the  sun,  and 
His  garments  became  white  as  the  light;"  and  St. 
Mark  adds:  "Such  as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  white 
them."    It  would  seem  as  if  the  Saviour  designed  to 
give  us  here  a  manifestation  of  the  heavenly  glory, 
on  this  side  of  the  border  line  of  the  future  world. 
Then  appear  two  resplendent  beings  from  the  invisi- 
ble realm,  Moses  and  Elias,  talking  with  Jesus.     The 
disciples  gaze  in  wonder  and  great  fear,  and  Peter 
cries  out  "  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here,  and  let 
us  make  here  three  tabernacles;  one  for  Thee, and  one 
for  Moses  and  one  for  Elias;"  and  then  we  are  told,  a 
bright    luminous  cloud  overshadowed  them  and  a 
voice  proceeded  out  of  the  cloud  saying:  "  This  is  My 
beloved  Son,  in  whom  I  am  well  pleased;  hear  ye 
Him!"    Overcome  by  this   supernatural  vision  the 
disciples  fall  prostrate  on  the  ground,  but  are  soon 


168  The   Transfiguration, 

brought  back  again  to  consciousness  by  the  restoring 
hand  and  voice  of  Jesus.  "What  then  follows?  We 
are  told  that  "they  saw  no  man  but  Jesus  only." 
The  momentary  splendor  of  Mount  Tabor,  Moses 
and  Elias  in  their  shining  vestments,  the  cloud  with 
its  unearthly  effulgence — these  have  faded  away. 
But,  it  is  not  a  matter  of  surprise  that  all  these 
lesser  accompaniments  of  that  wondrous  scene 
should  be  utterly  lost  in  the  presence  of  Jesus.  Let 
us  now  briefly  consider  the  thought  here  suggested, 
that  Jesus  is  the  one  supreme  object  which  shines 
forth  and  surpasses  all  others  ;  the  marvel  of 
marvels. 

1st.  Look  at  Him  in  His  birth.  It  is  true,f/iere,that 
we  can  see  none  but  Jesus  only.     How  wonderful 
His  advent  into  our  world — a  helpless  infant !    His 
cradle  a  manger  !    His  birthplace  a  stable  !     His 
parents,  the  humble  virgin  and  the  carpenter  Joseph  ! 
Look,  the  heavens  are  lighted  up  with  a  dazzling 
glory  !  a  new  born  star  gleams  nightly  in  Judea's 
sky!  A  host  of  angels  descend  from  heaven  to  earth 
and  fill  the  air  with  their  entrancing  melody!    Who 
is  this  helpless  infant  ?    It  is  God's  own  eternal  Son. 
He  lived  ages  before  the  world  was  made.    "  The 
King  of  Kings,"  "The  Wonderful,"   "Counsellor," 
"the  Mighty  God,"  "  the  Everlasting  Father,"  "the 


The   Transfiguration.  169 

Prince  of  Peace."  Was  there  ever  such  a  child  ?  Who 
is  not  astonished  at  the  marvel  of  His  birth  ?  Who  is 
not  ready  to  confess  "  we  see  none  but  Jesus  only." 
2d.  Look  at   His  boyhood.      Let  us  go  into  the 
humble  abode  of  the  carpenter.     In  all  probability  it 
was  a  very  plain  dwelling  with  little  furniture,  no 
show  or  ornament;  doubtless  a  wooden  chest  was 
there,  with  tools.    And  here  lived  the  youthful  Jesus, 
kind  and  dutiful  to  His  parents,  winning  by  His 
gentle  temper  and  holy  walk  the  esteem  and  love 
of  all  who  knew  Him.     Who  is  that  gentle  lovely 
boy  ?      He  is  the  Son  of    God.     He  has  a  higher, 
nobler  descent  than  that  of  Mary.     He  had  being 
before   Mary  was   born — before  the   world   began, 
or  time.     See  him  when,  twelve  years  old,  He  goes 
up  to  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  and  sits  among  those 
learned  Rabbis,  silencing  their  wise  interpretations 
by  His  amazing  wisdom.     Was  there  ever  such  a 
marvellous    boy,    possessed    of    an    understanding 
which  confounded  those    old    Jewish    Doctors,  an 
understanding  deeper  than  that  of  Plato  or    Soc- 
rates?   Was  there  ever  such  a  child,  in  all  history, 
as  this?    " Holy,  harmless,  undefiled  and  separate 
from  sinners,"  His  youth  without  a  fault  or  a  stain, 
beginning  His  existence  not  as  other  children  who 
inherit  the  fallen  nature  of  their  parents,  but  starting 


170  The   Transfiguration. 

into  life  pure  and  innocent,  and  like  the  sun,  advanc- 
ing cloudless  and  bright  to  its  noon. 

3d.  Then  again:  Look  at  Jesus,  as  a  minister  and 
public  teacher,  holding  His  hearers  spell-bound  by 
His  doctrine,  so  that  all  the  people  were  very  atten- 
tive to  hear  Him,  listening  to  the  lessons  of  heavenly 
truth  that  fell  from  His  lips,  in  the  Temple,  in  places 
of  public  resort,  by  the  way,  and  on  the  moun- 
tain side.  To  compare  Jesus  as  a  teacher  with 
others,  is  as  absurd  as  it  is  irreverent.  It  is  like  com- 
paring the  glories  of  the  noonday  sun  with  the  pale 
glimmer  of  marsh-light.  Who  but  Jesus  would  have 
dared  to  utter  such  words  as  these  :  "  I  am  the  light 
of  the  world;"  "I  and  my  Father  are  one;"  "I,  if 
I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me"?  For  a 
mere  man  to  make  such  declarations  would  be  noth- 
ing short  of  blasphemy;  and  yet,  the  judgment  of 
the  world,  for  eighteen  centuries  past,  has  not  been 
able  to  discover  in  them  the  slightest  egotism. 

Moreover,  follow  Jesus  to  the  place  of  His  death, 
and  who  ever  died  as  Jesus  died,  amid  supernatural 
darkness,  the  throes  of  an  earthquake,  the  temple's 
veil  rent  asunder,  and  the  graves  of  many  saints 
opened,  from  which  the  awakened  sleepers  arose 
and  came  into  the  city  after  His  resurrection!  Think, 
also,   of    His    resurrection;    when,   though    placed 


The   Transfiguration,  171 

in  a  tomb  sealed  up,  and  guarded  well  by  Roman 
soldiers,  yet  an  angel  descends  and  rolls  back  the 
stone  from  the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre;  and  Jesus, 
by  His  own  might,  comes  forth  a  triumphant  King 
and  Conqueror,  thus  securing  to  man  the  glorious 
hope  of  a  resurrection.  Once  more :  Consider  Him 
as  He  ascends  up  to  "  the  glory  which  He  had  with 
the  Father  before  the  world  was,"  exalted  high 
above  angels  and  archangels,  cherubim  and  sera- 
phim, worshipped  by  all  the  heavenly  hosts — who  is 
there  that  can  be  compared  with  Jesus  ?  Who,  as 
his  eye  gazes  round  on  the  wondrous  vision  of 
heaven,  as  he  beholds  the  assembly  of  the  glorified, 
will  not  first,  and  above  all,  fall  down  and  worship 
Jesus  ?  It  will  not  be  the  glorious  walls,  and  the 
sapphire  throne,  the  gates  of  pearl,  the  golden 
streets,  and  the  crystal  river  which  will  attract  and 
fix  the  attention  of  the  saved  and  fill  his  thoughts, 
but  Jesus,  our  Lord.  He  is  the  beatific  vision.  As 
it  was  with  the  disciples  of  old,  so  will  it  be  with  us 
who  attain  to  that  heavenly  land;  we  shall  "see 
none  but  Jesus  only,"  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  one  God,  for  ever  and  ever. 


XXIII. 

There  is  no  day  so  memorable  in  the  Church  cal- 
endar as  the  festival  of  Easter.  I  know  not  a  more 
befitting  theme  with  which  to  occupy  at  this  time 
the  attention  of  the  readers  of  your  Magazine  than 
those  words  addressed  by  the  angels  to  the  devout 
women  who  came  to  visit  Jesus'  sepulchre  :  "Come 
see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay. "    And 

1st.  We  may  regard  this  as  an  invitation  to  visit 
the  tomb  of  Jesus.  How  can  I  invite  you  to  a  spot 
more  interesting  and  more  sacred  than  this — the 
tomb  of  Jesus.  What  stirring  historical  associations 
and  memories  of  the  past  cluster  around  it !  During 
the  whole  of  what  are  called  ' '  the  Middle  Ages  "  the 
tomb  of  Jesus  was  the  great  central-point  of  interest 
and  attraction.  Myriads  at  that  time,  of  the  young 
and  the  old,  the  wise  and  the  ignorant,  the  king  and 
the  serf,  princes  and  warriors  from  the  countries  of 
Europe  and  Asia,  many  of  them  roused  by  the 
preaching  of  Peier  the  Hermit — all  these  pressed 
forward  toward  that  sacred  spot  animated  by  one 
and  the  same  purpose  of  recovering  it  from  the 
hands  of  unbelievers.  That  famous  battle-cry  of 
172 


Easter,  173 

the  past  has  ceased,  but  the  tomb  of  Jesus  has  lost 
none  of  its  interest.  It  is  still  the  bright  goal  toward 
which  countless  pilgrim  feet  have  pressed  and  are 
still  pressing  from  every  land  and  every  clime  ;  and 
around  which  innumerable  hearts  have  throbbed  with 
sacred  emotion,  as  being  the  place  once  consecrated 
by  Jesus'  form ;  into  which  Joseph  and  ISTicodemus 
once  bore  Jesus'  crucified  body;  where  that  body 
reposed  over  the  Sabbath ;  where  it  awoke  to  life, 
and  into  which  the  angels  and  the  Marys  and  the 
amazed  disciples  entered  on  that  first  Easter  morn. 
In  extending  to  you  this  invitation,  "Come  see  the 
place  where  the  Lord  lay,"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  visit 
the  precise  spot  where  the  Saviour  was  buried  and 
arose,  for  I  do  not  know  that  this  is  settled  beyond 
a  doubt.  It  is  not  an  essential  thing,  and  therefore 
it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  enter  into  those  controver- 
sies which  have  been  carried  on  by  learned  writers 
in  reference  to  the  exact  locality  of  Jesus'  tomb. 
What  is  now  called  the  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  where  the  marble  floors  are  worn  by 
numberless  visitors,  where  bright  lamps  and  costly 
incense  are  kept  burning,  may  or  may  not  be  upon 
the  place  where  that  sepulchre  was.  It  matters 
not.  It  was  once  known.  To  whom  ? 
Mary  knew  it.     She  who  had  been  once  such  a 


174  Easter. 

notorious  sinner,  and  who  had  experienced  the  sweet- 
ness   of  her  Saviour's  forgiving  love;  who  washed 
his  feet  with  tears,  and  wiped  them  with  the  soft 
tresses  of  her  hair;    who  hastened  forth  at  early 
dawn  on  that  memorable  Easter  morning,  with  ten- 
der affection,  to  visit  the  sepulchre,  and  who  when 
she  arrived  there  beheld  the  astonishing  scene— the 
huge  stone  rolled  away,   the  armed  sentinels  fallen 
on  their  faces,  and  the  angels  clad  in  white  robes 
sitting  there !  Yes,  Mary  knew  where  Jesus'  tomb  was. 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  he  also   knew.     He    who 
had  secretly  loved  Jesus;  who  was  a  member  of  the 
Jewish  Sanhedrim,  and  opposed  in  vain  their  action 
in  condemning  the  Saviour ;  who  went  and  begged  the 
body  of  Jesus,  and  in  company  with  Nicodemus,  bore 
it  sadly  and  silently  to  his  own  new  tomb  in  a  gar- 
den, thus  preventing  the  Saviour's  body  from  being 
buried   with  those  of    malefactors  in    the  potter's 
field;  by  which  tender  act  of  Christian  love,  his  name 
and  memory  will  ever  be  fragrant  in  the  Church  on 
earth— he  knew  where  Jesus'  tomb  was.     Who  else 
knew  it?     Joanna,   Salome,    Mary  the  mother  of 
James.     Wtfh  hearts  heavy  with  grief,  these  devout 
women,  the  faithful  followers  of  Jesus,  came  early 
to  the  sepulchre,  bearing  sweet  spices  to  embalm  His 
body.     The  thought  now  uppermost  in  their  minds 


Easter.  175 

was,  "Who  shall  roll  away  for  us  the  stone  from  the 
sepulchre?"  What  was  their  surprise  when  they 
found  it  already  rolled  away,  and  a  white-robed  angel, 
with  a  countenance  that  out-flashed  the  lightning", 
sitting  upon  it!  Startled  at  the  scene,  they  imme- 
diately conjecture  that  Jesus'  enemies  must  have  been 
there  and  taken  away  the  body.  So,  one  of  them 
runs  to  give  the  alarm,  while  the  others  tarry  behind. 
Then  it  was  that  the  angel  turns  to  them  and  says, 
as  if  to  quiet  their  fears:  "Be  not  affrighted.  Ye 
seek  Jesus  of  Nazareth  Who  was  crucified.  He  is 
not  here;  He  is  risen.  Come  see  the  place  where 
the  Lord  lay."  We  may  mention  one  or  two  more 
who  also  knew  where  Jesus'  tomb  was.  One  was  Peter, 
impulsive  and  headlong  in  his  disposition;  sometimes 
guilty  of  moral  weakness,  denying  his  Lord  and 
soon  after  repenting  bitterly  of  his  conduct.  With 
characteristic  impetuosity  he  runs  to  the  sepulchre, 
enters  it,  and  takes  careful  note  of  what  he  saw. 
And  there  was  one  more  who  knew  where  our 
Lord's  tomb  was — Mary,  His  mother.  With  what  a 
bleeding  heart  she  must  have  stood  by  the  cross 
and  listened  to  the  last  accents  of  His  dying  affection, 
>"  Woman,  behold  thy  son!"  and  with  what  mingled 
awe  and  rejoicing  must  she  have  heard  the  glorious 
tidings  of  her  Son's  resurrection!    But 


176  Easter. 

2d.  Our  subject  invites  us  not  only  to  consider  the 
locality  of  Jesus'  sepulchre  but  also  to  consider  it  as 
an  open,  empty  sepulchre,  as  the  place  where  the 
Lord  lay.  He  was  its  prisoner  once,  but  its  prisoner 
for  only  three  days.  Let  us  go  back  for  a  moment 
and  think  of  those  scenes  which  followed  the  cruci- 
fixion. The  excitement  attending  it  has  passed.  The 
guilty  participators  in  that  tragedy  have  retired  to 
their  homes.  There  is  a  universal  quietude  since 
Jesus  was  borne  by  faithful  loving  hands  to  His 
burial  in  the  garden  of  Joseph.  It  is  now  the 
dark  of  evening.  The  night  shades  are  deepening, 
and  the  holy  city  sinks  to  its  repose.  You  hear 
nothing  but  the  gentle  sighing  of  the  winds  as  they 
sweep  through  the  olive  trees,  or  the  clanking  of  the 
armor  or  weapons  of  the  guards  as  they  pass  to  and 
fro  beside  the  tomb.  Morning  comes  and  a  long  day 
passes  by.  Jesus'  enemies  and  murderers  now  feel 
confident  that  all  His  pretensions  have  come  to  a 
final  end ;  that  the  hopes  of  His  followers  are  now 
forever  blasted,  and  that  the  little  faithful  band  who 
have  forsaken  home  and  friends  and  endured  suffer- 
ings and  privations  for  Jesus'  sake  will  henceforth 
only  be  objects  of  the  world's  pity  and  scorn  ! 

But  night  again  enshrouds  the  earth.     The  bright 
stars  twinkle  gently  in  the  sky.     The  hum  of  the 


Easter.  177 

busy  populace  has  died  away,  and  nature  moves  on 
quietly  and  peacefully  toward  the  coming  morn,  as 
though  Jesus  was  truly  and  hopelessly  dead.     Dead! 
Is  he  dead  ?    Listen  !    What  sounds  are  those  that 
we  hear  breaking  the  stillness  of  the  hour  ?    An 
earthquake  upheaves  the  ground.     The  rocks  are 
rending.     The  sealed  sepulchre  is  flung  open.     The 
hour  is  come  !    The  angel  descends  and  rolls  back 
the  stone.     At  his  presence  the  guards  tremble  and 
fall  prostrate  as  dead  men.     Jesus  awakes  from  His 
death-sleep— awakes    by  His    own    Divine    energy 
and  comes  forth  from  His  grave,  victor  of  death ! 
Yes!  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  world 
the  dead  hath  had  power  to  live  again !    Here  is 
One    Who    hath  conquered  the    conqueror    of  all 
kings  and  mighty   ones  !     Here  is  One  Who  hath 
broken  open  the  prison-doors,  and  made  Himself  free 
from  death's  thraldom,  and  Who  will  also  set  His 
people  free.      We  can  easily    imagine,   then,   how 
comforting  and  cheering  must  the  words  have  been 
to  those  affrighted,  sorrowing  women:  "Fear  not, 
for  I  know  that  ye  seek  Jesus  Which  was  crucified. 
He  is  not  here,  for  He  is  risen,  as  He  said.     Come, 
see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay."    It  was  the  same 
as  if  he  had  said,  "Be  not  troubled  or  disquieted  at 
the  scenes  you  behold.     Cast  aside  your  fears  and 


178  Easter. 

doubts  and  '  see  the  place  where  the  Lord  lay.' 
See  !  it  is  an  open  tomb — a  deserted  grave."  What 
those  women  needed  most  of  all,  and  what  we  all 
desire  supremely,  is  to  be  assured  of  the  reality  of 
Christ's  resurrection.  One  look  at  the  open,  deserted 
tomb  of  Jesus  is  worth  more  than  the  thousand 
vague  guessings  of  philosophy  or  dim  teachings  of 
natural  religion.  "Come,  see  the  place  where  the 
Lord  lay."  That  place  was  a  grave.  Jesus  hath 
lain  there  ;  so  must  we.  We  cannot  shut  death  out 
of  view,  if  we  would.  We  must  all  die  and  be  laid, 
as  our  Lord  was,  in  the  cold  and  silent  grave.  But  is 
that  all  ?  Does  our  being  end  in  that  ?  £To.  Jesus' 
open  tomb  proclaims  that  there  is  a  resurrection  for 
the  body,  and  for  the  soul  an  immortality ;  that  sin 
and  death  are  not  the  supreme  powers,  but  tyrants 
for  a  time  only.  Christ  hath  broken  their  dominion; 
and  every  true  believer  in  Him  can  now  say  of  the 
grave : 

4  Grave,  the  guardian  of  our  dust ! 

Grave,  the  treasury  of  the  skies  ! 
Every  atom  of  thy  trust 

Bests  in  hope  again  to  rise. 
Hark !  the  judgment  trumpet  calls  : 

Soul,  rebuild  thy  house  of  clay, 
Immortality  thy  walls, 

And  eternity  thy  day." 


BRITTLE  DO  NOT 
PHOTOCOPY 


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